GIFT  OF 


x  |\J     IT 


:",  , : 


%     I    •    »     • 


OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE 


OCR  FATHER'S  HOUSE, 


OB  THE 


UNWRITTEN   WORD 


BY 


REV.   DANIEL    MARCH,   D.D., 
it 

AUTHOR  OF  "NIGHT  SCENES  IN  THE  BIBLE. 


ZIEGLER    &    McCURDY, 

PHILADELPHIA,    PA.;    CINCINNATI,    OHIOj 

CHICAGO,    ILL.,-    ST.    LOUIS,    MO.; 

SPRINGFIELD,    MASS. 

1870. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 
RKV.  DANIEL  MARCH,  D.D., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United   States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


8.  A.  GEORGE   &    CO., 
PKINTERS,  I'IIILA. 


A'T.noxaon, 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  the  highest  attainment  of  human  faith  to  believe  that 
the  Maker  of  all  worlds  is  OUR  FATHER,  and  that  this  earth 
is  but  one  of  the  many  mansions  in  OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE 
It  is  the  highest  attainment  of  human  philosophy  to  accept  all 
the  forms  and  forces  of  the  physical  world  as  revelations  of 
God's  UNWRITTEN  WORD.  The  author  of  this  book  has 
tried  to  walk  humbly  hand  in  hand  with  both  Faith  and 
Philosophy  while  surveying  the  wonders  of  God's  works  for 
the  illustration  of  the  deeper  wonders  of  God's  word.  Crav- 
ing the  company  of  such  as  can  be  persuaded  to  go  with  him, 
he  would  wander  from  room  to  room  in  the  great  House  which 
God  has  built,  wondering  all  the  way  at  the  riches  and  splen- 
dors stored  in  every  apartment,  and  accepting  every  gift  of 
his  Father's  love  with  the  simplicity  and  thankfulness  of  a 
little  child. 

If  my  reader  will  consent  to  go  with  me  in  such  a  spirit, 
we  shall  together  find  it  easy  to  draw  lessons  of  heavenly 
wisdom  from  the  most  common  objects  of  daily  observation. 
We  shall  see  God  in  the  glory  of  infinite  wisdom  and  love 
where  faithless  Science  sees  nothing  but  soulless  law  and  pur- 
poseless phenomena.  We  shall  gather  eternal  riches  where  the 
seekers  after  perishable  gain  find  nothing  but  dust.  We  shall 
make  the  transient  and  perishable  things  of  earth  the  repre- 

5 

438948 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 
RK-V.  DANIEL   MARCH,  D.D., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United   States  for  the  Eastern 
District  of  Pennsylvania. 


8.  A.  GEORGE   &   CO., 
PRINTERS,  PHILA. 


WESTOOT,!  4%T(noMson 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  the  highest  attainment  of  human  faith  to  believe  that 
the  Maker  of  all  worlds  is  OUR  FATHER,  and  that  this  earth 
is  but  one  of  the  many  mansions  in  OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE 
It  is  the  highest  attainment  of  human  philosophy  to  accept  all 
the  forms  and  forces  of  the  physical  world  as  revelations  of 
God's  UNWRITTEN  WORD.  The  author  of  this  book  has 
tried  to  walk  humbly  hand  in  hand  with  both  Faith  and 
Philosophy  while  surveying  the  wonders  of  God's  works  for 
the  illustration  of  the  deeper  wonders  of  God's  word.  Crav- 
ing the  company  of  such  as  can  be  persuaded  to  go  with  him, 
he  would  wander  from  room  to  room  in  the  great  House  which 
God  has  built,  wondering  all  the  way  at  the  riches  and  splen- 
dors stored  in  every  apartment,  and  accepting  every  gift  of 
his  Father's  love  with  the  simplicity  and  thankfulness  of  a 
little  child. 

If  my  reader  will  consent  to  go  with  me  in  such  a  spirit, 
we  shall  together  find  it  easy  to  draw  lessons  of  heavenly 
wisdom  from  the  most  common  objects  of  daily  observation. 
We  shall  see  God  in  the  glory  of  infinite  wisdom  and  love 
where  faithless  Science  sees  nothing  but  soulless  law  and  pur- 
poseless phenomena.  We  shall  gather  eternal  riches  where  the 
seekers  after  perishable  gain  find  nothing  but  dust.  We  shall 
make  the  transient  and  perishable  things  of  earth  the  repre- 

5 

438943 


6  PREFACE. 

sentatives  of  things  unseen  and  eternal.  "We  shall  bind  up 
the  most  spiritual  truths  in  material  forms,  that  we  may  grasp 
them  the  more  firmly.  We  shall  associate  heavenly  things 
with  earthly  phenomena,  that  they  may  occur  to  our  minds  the 
more  constantly.  We  shall  see  God  in  all  the  works  of  his 
hands ;  we  shall  make  the  whole  journey  of  life  a  happy  walk 
of  children  with  their  Father.  And  whether  we  go  out  into 
the  open  fields  and  listen  to  the  singing  birds  and  the  whisper- 
ing winds  and  the  murmuring  forests,  or  whether  we  survey 
the  heavens  and  trace  the  winged  light  to  the  most  distant 
star,  we  shall  see  nothing  but  our  Father's  work — we  shall 
always  feel  ourselves  at  home  and  in  our  Father's  House. 

This  is  after  the  manner  of  the  instruction  given  by  Him 
who  taught  us  to  say,  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven.  He 
spoke  of  men  as  God's  children,  and  of  the  earth  and  heavens 
as  the  house  which  their  Father  had  built  and  filled  with  all 
good  things  for  them  to  use  and  enjoy  with  gratitude.  In  his 
vivid  and  pictorial  teachings  we  see  the  blooming  flowers 
clothed  with  beauty  by  our  Father's  hand ;  we  hear  the  birds 
sing  with  thankfulness  because  they  are  fed  by  our  Father's 
bounty;  we  feel  a  greater  joy  in  the  light  of  the  sun  because 
every  beam  shines  from  our  Father's  face;  we  delight  the 
more  in  the  sound  of  the  falling  rain  because  every  drop  is  a 
messenger  of  our  Father's  mercy. 

By  this  method  of  instruction  our  Lord  renewed  and  sanc- 
tioned the  vivid  impersonations  of  ancient  prophets  and  psalm- 
ists, who  made  the  whole  material  creation  vocal  with  tho 
praise  of  the  Most  High.  And  the  author  .of  this  book  feels 
that  the  old  Hebrew  impersonations  of  God  in  nature  are  as 
appropriate  now  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  David  and  Isaiah. 
The  most  advanced  and  exact  science  is  ever  consistent  with 
the  most  simple  and  childlike  faith.  If  Christ  were  on  earth 


PREFACE.  t 

now,  teaching  in  this  land  as  he  taught  on  the  hillsides  of 
Galilee,  we  may  venture  to  think  that  he  would  speak  of  the 
flowers  and  the  grass,  the  birds  and  the  rain,  as  familiarly  as 
he  did  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  And  this  book  has  been 
written  with  the  hope  that  it  might  help  others  to  learn  from 
common  things  and  by  daily  observation  just  such  lessons  as 
Jesus  taught  when  he  said,  "  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air" — 
"  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field." 

Let  us  go  forth,  then,  with  a  free  and  reverent  step  upon  our 
survey  of  the  riches  and  wonders  of  OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE. 
And  as  we  take  here  and  there  a  favorable  point  of  view,  and 
direct  our  attention  sometimes  to  things  that  we  can  best  un- 
derstand, and  sometimes  to  those  which  utterly  confound  us 
by  their  greatness  and  mystery,  let  us  try  to  read  the  book  of 
divine  revelation  the  more  clearly  in  the  light  of  God's 
WRITTEN  WORD. 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  * 


FOUNDED  ON  A  ROCK FKONTISPUCB. 

THE  NATAL    STAB .. « „ 28 

THE  LAST  PRATER „ US 

THE  STRENGTH  OP  THE   HILLS. •. „  81 

THE  FIRST  TEMPLES ^.....,  96 

LET  THERE  BE    LIGHT „ 137 

THE  SECRET  PLACE  OF  THUNDER „ 187 

THE    BOW  IN  THE  CLOUDS 195 

THE  LAST  LOOK  OF  THE  HILLS „ 837 

THK  VOICE  OUT  OF  THE  CLOUDS „ 853 

A  FROZEN  WORLD „ 387 

HAVEN  OF  REST «««.M..«M.«^.....M.^..^.......^....«                ,.  643 


CONTENTS. 


L 

GOD'S   GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

Early  life  of  David— Skies  of  Judea— His  questionings  of  the  stars — Henvens 
still  inscrutable — Astronomy  the  oldest  and  most  sacred  science — Early  ob- 
servations— Stars  more  fascinating  than  earthly  objects — Stars  ever  with 
the  wanderer — Stars  worshiped — Rulers  over  human  destiny — The  Persians, 
Egyptians,  Druids — Astronomy  exact  but  still  fascinating — Heavens  can- 
not be  measured — Stars  innumerable — Order  of  the  starry  host — Arcturus, 
Orion,  Pleiades — Earth  changes — Stars  the  same — Earth  agitated — The 
heavens  calm — A  startling  meteor — The  false  impression — Stars  do  not  fall 
— Madness  to  oppose  the  Hand  that  holds  the  stars — Our  world  not  the 
whole  of  creation — Heavens  pity  man's  pride — How  little  man  can  change 
the  earth — A  lesson  of  faith  from  the  stars — To  do  God's  will  brings  peace 
— The  new  creation — God's  harmony  in  the  soul — Vastness  of  the  heavens 
— Distance  of  the  stars — Distance  that  light  comes — Dimensions  of  stars — 
Millions  of  suns — Power  of  instruments — Parts  of  God's  ways — The  neb- 
ula in  Orion— Examined  by  different  telescopes — Resolved  at  last — Its 
distance  from  us — Many  other  nebulae — Their  distance — Space-penetrating 
power  of  telescopes — Enlargement  of  the  heavens  by  science — Stars  inhab- 
ited— Number  of  God's  children — Worship  due  to  the  Creator — Madness  of 
living  without  God — One  centre  of  power  and  motion — The  central  throne 
of  the  universe — God  unsearchable — His  bounty  infinite — He  is  our  Father 
— The  gates  will  be  thrown  open — Science  and  revelation  alike  correct 
skepticism — The  Lamb  on  the  throne  of  the  universe — Worth  of  the  soul...  23 

n. 

GOD'S   WONDERS  IN   THE   DEEP. 

Bible  allusions  to  the  sea — Hebrews  not  a  seafaring  people — Distant  prospect  of 
the  deep — Terms  in  which  the  Bible  speaks  of  the  sea — Modern  modes  little 
better — Aspects  of  the  sea — Its  fascination — Wonders  of  the  sea  ever  in- 
creasing— The  sea  not  a  waste — The  sea  supports  the  land — The  moon  a 
world  without  a  sea — Its  appearance — The  sea  keeps  up  the  life  of  the 
earth — Everything  comes  out  of  the  sea — The  sea  the  source  of  the  rivers — 


.    •  i.      •    ' 

V-  :  l/j  Jb'*0    j       '  lVv 
10  CONTENTS. 

NM 

The  sea  feeds  the  clouds  and  gives  the  rain — The  sea  in  everything  around 
us — Population  of  the  sea — The  armies  of  the  deep  on  the  inarch — The 
abundance  of  the  sea  exhaustless — Divine  power  in  the  sea — Instability  of 
the  sea — Restlessness  of  the  deep — And  yet  the  earth  founded  on  the  sea — 
Miracle  of  stability  in  the  sea — Never  breaks  over  its  bounds — Balancing 
of  forces  through  the  universe — Starting  on  a  sea-voyage — Appearance  of 
calm  and  security — Lost  on  the  sea — The  problem  solved — The  secret 
drawn  from  the  sun — Distant  worlds  serve  man — Shall  we  trust  the  Maker 
of  the  sea? — A  land-bird  out  at  sea — Taken  on  board — How  directed  to  the 
ship — A  lesson  of  faith — First  impressions  on  the  sea — Fair  weather — The 
deep  in  placid  mood — Exaggerated  descriptions  of  the  sea — The  sea  in 
wrath — The  ship  its  plaything — The  blow  of  the  waves — Sensations  of  sink- 
ing— A  last  prayer — Search  for  the  strong  Hand — The  Helper  found — Sea- 
sickness— Its  dreadful  sensations — Misery  and  despair — Personal  experi- 
ence— A  ship  of  torture — What  the  cause  ? — Oh  for  rest ! — Impossible  to  b« 
attained — A  ccstly  yet  precious  lesson — The  sea  the  hiding  of  power — Tb« 
toiling  giant  of  the  sea — Nothing  so  mighty  as  water — Working  power  o/ 
the  sea — The  deep  the  workshop  of  the  Divine  Architect — The  record  of  th« 
sea  on  the  land — All  made  in  the  sea — An  everlasting  anthem — The  sea 
under  control — The  land  where  there  is  no  more  sea il 

III. 

MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

Impersonations  of  the  Hebrew  language — All  things  referred  to  God — The  first 
language — Influence  of  great  objects  in  nature — Mountains  the  symbol  of 
immutability — Power  to  cast  the  mountains  into  the  sea — God's  righteous- 
ness stronger — Our  defence  in  God  sure — View  from  a  mountain-top — How 
firm  the  mountains  stand — Yet  God's  word  more  firm — Old  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tain in  Franconia — Devotion  in  stone — Like  constancy  desired — The  check- 
ered scenes  of  life — Look  up  like  that  rocky  face — Looking  down  upon  clouds 
from  the  height — A  symbol  of  temptation — Fascinating  in  the  distance- 
Near,  nothing  but  mist — Beautiful  again  when  gone — Apples  of  Sodom — Such 
stuff  as  dreams  are  made  of — Mountains  support  millions — Consequence  of 
leveling  the  mountains — Mountains  support  rivers — Mountains  the  treasu- 
ries of  nations — Give  life  to  all  that  live — God's  righteousness  the  fountain 
of  blessing — It  purges  away  the  plague — God's  magazines  of  power  beneath 
us — We  sleep  on  a  sea  of  fire — The  power  that  restrains  it  within  bounds — 
Our  safety— The  hills  the  shelter  of  the  oppressed— The  Waldenses— Hymn 
of  the  mountain  Christian — The  strength  of  the  hills — Righteousness  the 
protection  of  sinners — Peace  for  all  souls 79 

IV. 

TREES. 

Beauty  in  the  Divine  plan  of  creation — Love  of  the  beautiful  instinctive — It» 
gratification  provided  for  in  Paradise — The  first  man  was  to  keep  his  gar- 
den beautiful — Paradise,  a  park  of  trees — The  groves  the  first  temples— 


CONTENTS.  11 

PAGI 

•The  divine  voice  in  the  trees — The  remembrances  of  Paradise — Reverence 
for  goodly  trees — Abuse  of  a  right  feeling  by  idolaters — The  worship  of  the 
trees — Trees  seem  human — Characteristics  in  common  with  man — Their 
prominence  in  the  landscape — The  trees  are  the  fountains  of  rivers — 
Drought  follows  the  loss  of  forests — Trees  gone  from  Palestine — Trees  have 
sacred  associations — Trees  have  a  history — Elm  on  Boston  Common — Elm  at 
Cambridge — Lime  tree  at  Freyburg — Victory  of  Morat — Luther's  oak  at 
Wittenberg — The  terebinth  at  Moreh — Oaks  of  Mamre — Angels  under  the 
tree — An  extraordinary  interview — God  met  everywhere — The  grove  of 
Beersheba — Every  placo  to  be  consecrated  by  prayer — Moses  at  the  burn- 
ing bush — God  still  in  the  trees — Change  from  winter  to  summer — Palms 
of  Succoth — Feast  of  the  Tabernacles — Palms  of  Elirn — Oak  of  Shechem — 
Oak  in  Ophrah — The  sound  of  a  going  in  the  mulberry  trees — The  olives  oi 
Gethsemane — The  forests  singing — Tree  of  life — Throne  of  the  Lamb — Or- 
chestra of  the  trees — Spiritual  truth  in  earthly  forms — Heaven  a  home — 
Heaven  a  place  of  home-like  realities — All  earthly  things  represent  the 
heavenly — The  spiritual  world  attractive  to  human  hearts — Trees  symbol  of 
immortality — Californian  pine — Old  as  Abraham — Still  alive — It  sprang 
from  decay — The  resurrection  body — Powers  of  the  new  body — The  soul  of 
the  blind  not  blind — New  organs,  new  powers — Greatness  of  the  resurrection.  99 


V. 

THE  GRASS   OF   THE  FIELD. 

Grass  includes  all  green  things — Christ's  way  of  teaching  faith — The  child  of 
the  sun — The  grass  as  well  as  the  heavens  declares  the  glory  of  God — Grass 
the  universal  preacher — The  creative  word — Grass  widely  diffused — Climbs' 
heights — Goes  north — Discovers  islands — Hides  deformity — Will  not  be 
expelled  from  the  city — Preaches  to  merchants,  rich,  poor,  young,  old — 
Christ's  missionary — Cure  for  despondency — Vase  in  your  window — How 
to  cheer  a  sick  friend — Send  him  a  flower — Flowers  in  a  furnace — How  the 
workmen  cheered  their  toil — What  Jesus  would  say  to  them — Forms  of  life 
everywhere — Grass  holds  the  avalanche — Builds  a  bank  against  the  sea — 
Covers  the  earth  with  a  pleasant  hue — Earth  desolate  without  grass — Cho- 
sen by  Christ  to  teach  trust — World  full  of  anxious,  mistaken  search  for 
rest — They  go  too  far — What  the  grass  says,  Trust,  trust — Afraid  to  be- 
lieve that  God  cares  for  you — Trust  and  be  strong — Trust  not  in  money — 
Not  in  health — But  Christ — No  better  lesson  than  that  of  the  grass — Grass 
teaches  lowliness — "  I  am  lowly" — Lives  where  nothing  else  will — Mown, 
trampled  upon,  frozen — It  still  grows — Blesses  all — Makes  all  beautiful  and 
happy — The  happiest  take  the  lowest  place — Benefit  of  being  neglected — 
Trodden  upon — Gentleness  great — Humility  strong — Pride  weak — Great 
discovery — Suffer  and  be  strong — Love  thyself  last — Short  advice — Frailty 
ef  man  taught  by  grass — Testimony  of  Moses — A  strong  man  in  his  coffin 
—A  little  child— A  walk  in  the  cemetery— A  flower  killed  by  the  frost- 
Encampment  of  a  great  army — Full  of  life  and  power — The  charge — Yet 
all  will  die  like  the  grass— All  will  die— What  then  ?  shall  we  find  a  home  ? 
—The  final  admonition  of  the  grass 117 


12  CONTENTS. 

VI. 

LIGHT. 

*AOX 

Light  the  source  of  life — All  growth  dependent  on  light — Deprivation  of  light 
the  sorest  punishment — The  Prince  of  Darkness — The  Prince  of  Light-1- 
Weapons  of  light — Affluence  of  light — Medium  of  communicating  with  the 
world — View  from  the  Cathedral  of  Milan — Plain,  mountains,  stars  the  cre- 
ation of  light — Daybreak — Morning  described — How  it  would  affect  us  if 
seen  but  once — Light  the  symbol  of  life,  beauty,  gladness — The  effect  of 
light  in  falling  on  various  objects — Creation  began  with  light — Plague  of 
darkness  upon  the  Egyptians — Pillar  of  light  leading  the  tribes — Shckinah 
In  the  temple — Job's  land  of  darkness — Who  can  tell  the  source  of  light  ? — 
The  Light  of  the  world — God  is  light — Appropriateness  of  John's  description 
— Observations  through  telescopes — How  long  the  light  of  stars  is  on  the 
way — Distance  of  nebula3 — God's  presence  co-extensive  with  light — No  life 
without  light — Consequence  of  putting  out  the  light  of  the  sun — Nature  of 
light  unknown — Vibration  of  light  in  producing  vision — Man's  bright  light 
dark  against  the  sun — Quantity  of  light  given  by  the  sun — Light  reveals 
the  constitution  of  distant  worlds — Revelations  of  the  spectroscope — God  to 
ns  the  Father  of  light — A  pleasure-garden  illuminated — How  much  more 
glorious  the  gardens  of  the  blessed! — The  effect  of  Christ's  coming 135 

VII. 

LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

Description  of  a  thunder-storm  at  night  among  mountains — Greatness  of  Him 
who  can  command  the  lightnings — The  prerogative  of  the  infinite  God — He 
also  commands  the  tempests  of  human  passion — All  forces  in  his  hand — The 
Lord  sitteth  King  on  the  floods — Test  of  faith — The  great  and  strong  are 
calm — Lightning  the  representative  of  divine  sovereignty — We  can  do  little 
with  our  batteries — The  battery  of  the  clouds — How  much  greater  it  is — 
Thunder  and  lightnings  sent  upon  the  Egyptians — The  Philistines — The  Is- 
raelites— Thunder  in  harvest-time — Lightnings  upon  Sinai — Lightnings  in 
heaven — Lightnings  and  thunderings  from  the  throne  of  the  Lamb — What 
they  teach — The  cross  and  the  throne — Lightning  above  man's  science — 
The  coming  on  of  a  thunder-storm — The  effect  on  the  landscape — How 
helpless  we  are  in  the  presence  of  such  power — The  little  boy  struck  at  the 
window — Only  one  bolt,  and  that  for  him — The  angel  of  death  passing  along 
the  street  at  night — Who  taken  and  left— The  old  man— The  sick— Th* 
drunkard  left — The  little  child  taken — The  lightning  the  messenger  of  bless- 
ing, not  affliction — How  various  its  effects — It  will  not  be  chained — Electri« 
force  everywhere — We  should  stand  in  awe  of  its  power — Telegraphic  ex- 
periment— God's  providences  are  beneficent  to  those  that  welcome  their 
coming iP5 

VIII. 

LITTLE  THINGS. 

Many  things  small  and  wise — How  many  little  things  science  has  discovered — 
Many  little  creatures  have  the  advantage  of  man — The  housefly — Its  swift 


CONTENTS.  13 

MM 

flight— The  flea— The  boatfly— The  termites— The  silkworm— Tne  eyes  of 
the  butterfly — The  canary  bird — How  much  more  God  can  give  to  man 
— The  vulture,  spider,  swallow  and  bee — Why  our  faculties  are  so  limited — 
What  the  spirits  of  the  just  may  do — Man  in  the  new  earth — The  effect  of 
receiving  a  new  sense — Little  things  impress  us  most  with  the  power  of 
God — Power  of  numbers — The  locusts — How  they  move — Their  great  num- 
ber— Their  voracity — Cause  famine  and  desolation — Arabs'  description  of 
them — Joel's  description — No  escape  from  them — An  army  of  thirty  thou- 
sand men  sent  against  them — Irresistible — How  easy  for  God  to  scourge  a 
nation — Other  little  things — The  potato  blight — The  weevil — Rust  in  wheat 
— Insect  among  the  pines — Phosphorescence  at  sea — Red  snow — Coral  in- 
sects— Polishing  slate — City  of  Richmond  marl — Sand  of  Sahara — Eight  mil- 
lions of  living  creatures  in  a  grain  of  mustard-seed — God's  work  perfect  in 
the  least  as  well  as  the  greatest — Look  well  to  the  little  things — Little 
things  make  men  great — Be  faithful  in  the  least — What  is  worth  doing  at 
all  is  worth  doing  well „ 17§ 


IX 

GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

The  beauty  of  God's  symbols  of  truth — The  flowers,  the  mountains,  the  stars, 
make  the  truth  inviting — God's  promise  written  across  the  whole  heavens — 
Laws  of  nature  not  changeable — Yet  Noah's  family  may  never  have  seen  the 
bow  till  after  the  deluge — Why  then  especially  needed — Its  first  appearance 
to  them — The  covenant — Friends  looking  at  the  same  star — God  and  man 
looking  at  the  bow — God  never  forgets — Yet  tells  us  he  will  not,  to  quiet  our 
fears — Deathbed  requests — Passion  to  be  remembered — Strength  of  the  pas- 
sion— German  castle  on  the  Rhine — Vaulted  chamber  beneath — The  Vehm- 
gericht — Trial  before  the  secret  council — Doom  of  the  condemned — "  The  for- 
gotten ones" — Terror  of  the  sentence — God  satisfies  the  desire  to  be  remem- 
bered— How  the  mother  remembers  her  child — Mother  perishing  in  the  snow 
— Child  saved — God  more  sure  to  remember — It  is  more  to  be  remembered  by 
him — No  bow  without  a  cloud — Not  needed  in  the  bright  sunshine — World 
most  beautiful  after  a  shower — Rest  after  toil — No  shadow,  no  sun — Look  up 
—Little  boy  climbing  the  ladder  in  Baltimore — Grows  giddy,  about  to  fall,  is 
saved  by  the  words,  "  Look  up"— What  the  boy  did  when  a  man— Many 
tired,  giddy  climbers  need  to  look  up— This  the  watchword  of  the  Bible  to 
man,  "  Look  up" — Bow  never  appears  till  the  sun  is  more  than  halfway 
down — God's  help  comes  when  we  need  it  most — Sunshine  must  be  veiled 
to  give  the  utmost  beauty  to  the  landscape — To  see  the  bow  we  must  stand 
with  our  back  to  the  sun — To  see  heaven  we  must  turn  away  from  earth — 
Look  less  on  the  present,  more  at  the  future — The  bow  high  enough  for  all 
to  see— He  is  not  afraid  his  mercy  will  be  too  free— Take  your  Father's 
hand — God's  covenant  with  all  flesh — The  bow  invites  back  to  the  path  of 
lifie — The  bow  never  grows  dim — Every  observer  sees  his  own  bow — Every 
heart  has  its  own  grief — needs  its  own  comfort — The  higher  we  go  the  more 
complete  the  bow — The  rainbow  roundabout  the  throne  in  heaven 


14  CONTENTS. 


CONSIDER   THE   LILIES. 

PAUl 

Flffwers  the  link  between  man  and  earth — They  have  the  properties  of  both — 
What  Christ  sets  the  lilies  to  teach — Flowers  express  all  emotions — The 
language  of  flowers — They  always  express  the  human  heart — They  mingle 
with  all  occasions — For  the  sick,  the  young,  the  gay,  the  serious,  the  dead — 
The  flowers  are  always  pure  and  good — Flowers  draw  men  back  to  Paradise 
— Flowers  the  embodied  music  of  nature — Flowers  as  holy  as  sacred  song — 
Fit  for  the  sanctuary — The  sacrament — The  holiest  service  made  better  by 
flowers — The  beauty  of  the  flowers — All  of  God's  works  beautiful — Creation 
a  cosmos — The  beauty  of  fitness — Adaptation  of  form,  number,  color,  place — 
All  in  correspondence  with  each  other — Same  principles  of  fitness  and  order 
in  all  worlds — Everybody  sees  this  completeness  and  correspondence  of 
parts  in  the  flowers — All  quiet,  earnest,  refined  people  love  flowers — The 
poor,  the  student,  the  artist — All  comfort  themselves  with  flowers — Devout 
people  love  them — The  Christian  traveler  in  the  Holy  Land  brings  home 
flowers — Sacred  mementoes — Infinite  variety  of  flowers — God  himself  de- 
lights in  beauty — Flowers  declare  his  glory — The  two  hundred  thousand 
species  are  all  thoughts  of  God — God's  children  must  delight  in  the  forms  of 
beauty  which  he  creates — The  poorest  can  have  the  works  of  the  Divine  Ar- 
tist in  their  houses — "What  Christ  would  say  to  those  who  sigh  for  works  of 
art — Cultivate  the  quiet  grace  of  the  flowers — The  highest  ornament — Love 
the  fit  expression  of  the  highest  grace  of  character — Flowers  teach  the  frailty 
of  man — Child  like  the  flower  in  frailty — The  foliage  of  the  oldest  trees  fades 
year  by  year — Our  living  forms,  like  the  flowers,  must  sleep  in  the  dust — 
Flowers  teach  the  lesson  of  trust — Where  the  flowers  preach — The  audience, 
house,  music,  prayer,  voices — Their  sermons  all  good — Their  sermon  the 
same  as  Christ's — Anxiety  the  bane  of  happiness — Not  neglecting  the  Bible 
to  consider  the  lilies — Cure  for  despondency — Mungo  Park's  story  of  the 
flower  in  Africa — Many  great  and  noble  minds  need  the  like  lesson 215 

XL 

THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

A  hard  study  made  easy — Birds  the  most  attractive  of  all  the  animal  tribes — A 
superadded  ornament,  a  final  touch  of  the  Creative  hand — God  has  given 
beauty  to  his  work  for  our  delight — Birds  most  like  spiritual  beings — Psalm- 
ist's sigh  for  the  wings  of  a  dove — Birds  exempt  from  care — Their  content- 
ment— Their  migrations — The  Christian's  two  homes — Happy  to  stay,  happy 
to  go — Birds  alone  of  the  animal  tribes  have  musical  voices — Birds  sing  in 
Galilee  as  they  did  in  Christ's  day — Birds  sing  in  the  morning,  evening,  in 
cages,  in  pain,  in  blindness — When  one  bird  sings  others  join-  -The  variety 
of  their  notes — Birds  live  in  all  sorts  of  ways — Their  many  houses — God 
cares  for  them  all — Birds  travel  in  all  sorts  of  ways — Their  food — Their 
contentment — On  foot  or  in  carriages  we  can  always  travel  cheerfully  if  we 
imitate  the  birds — The  brilliant  plumage  of  the  birds — Pheasant,  bird  of 
Paradise — Will  not  God  much  more  clothe  you  ? — Common  birds  teach  the 
same  lessons— Their  life  a  holiday— The  birds  of  the  Bible — The  dove— 


CONTENTS.  15 

FAoa 

Emblem  of  purity — Noah's  dove — Our  dove  of  peace — The  dove  at  Christ's 
baptism — The  sparrow — Common,  insignificant,  yet  cared  for  by  God — The 
birds  know  their  times — The  stork  migrating  from  Ethiopia  to  Sweden — 
Power  of  instinct — What  instinct  is  in  man — The  carrier-pigeon — The 
highest  flight  the  brightest  and  safest — The  eagle  of  the  Alps — Through 
darkness  into  light — Dove  chased  by  hawk — Safe  as  long  as  she  keeps  above 
her  enemy — Keep  the  world  under 237 

XII. 

GOD'S   TREASURIES   OP   THE   WIND. 

Pour  thousand  apartments  in  the  Vatican — Immense  treasures  of  art — Impres- 
sions of  a  visitor — What  he  thinks  of  Rome  from  the  Vatican — The  uni- 
verse God's  palace — This  earth  one  apartment — Our  life  the  first  day  of  ex- 
ploring it — By  and  by  the  doors  to  other  rooms  will  open — One  lesson  on 
the  winds — Divine  voice  in  the  wind  of  Paradise — Effect  of  the  wind  upon 
one  cast  ashore  on  an  uninhabited  island — In  ancient  languages  wind  and 
spirit  the  same — Wind  assuaged  the  waters  of  the  deluge — Wind  shut  up 
the  waters  in  the  sea — Wind  brings  water  from  the  sea  to  the  mountains — 
A  better  carrier  than  millions  of  horses — Machinery  that  never  wears  out 
— Wind  divided  the  Red  Sea — Why  God  chose  the  wind  as  the  vehicle  of 
his  power — The  reality  of  things  unseen — God  comes  to  us  like  the  wind — 
Effect  of  wind  upon  the  forest,  the  sea — A  tornado — The  power  unseen  yet 
mighty — Folly  not  to  believe  in  the  unseen — All  live  in  the  unseen — The 
mourner,  the  loving,  the  returned  wanderer — The  power  of  the  poet  and 
artist — Visit  to  Bunyan's  grave — The  smoke,  the  rain,  the  delay — The  hum- 
ble monument,  and  what  I  saw  besides — The  power  of  Bunyan's  life  still 
great  in  the  world — The  winds  the  messengers  of  truth  and  blessing — Arabs 
of  the  present  day  call  the  winds  God's  messengers — "  Dismount  and  meet 
God's  messengers" — Ezekiel  prophesying  to  the  wind — The  rushing  wind  at 
Pentecost — What  the  wind  does  with  clouds,  dew,  rain,  snow — The  medium 
of  sound — "  Come,  0  Breath" — Open  the  windows  and  let  the  air  in — The 
wind,  the  Spirit,  everywhere 257 

XIII. 

THE  RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

The  oldest  Book  in  advance  of  the  age — Modern  ideas  in  the  Bible — Inspira- 
tion of  progress  in  the  old  prophets — The  blessing  that  comes  as  the  rain — 
The  dry  weather  after  harvest — Signs  of  rain — The  appearance  of  gathering 
clouds — The  fall  of  the  rain — Its  effects  on  the  mown  field — Help  for  the 
soul  must  come  like  the  rain  from  above — Less  of  earth,  more  of  heaven — 
Drought  described — The  appearance  of  the  sky,  air,  stars,  moon,  landscape 
— Thirty  millions  dying  of  famine  in  Bengal — All  for  the  want  of  rain — 
Drought  symbol  of  spiritual  need — Effect  of  drought  on  the  Karroo — The 
rain  restoring  its  life — So  Christ  would  revive  the  waste — First  effect  of 
rain  dark  and  depressing — Aspect  of  landscape  after  the  rain — So  Christ's 
coining  to  many  makes  them  unhappy  at  first — Receive  him  and  he  will 


16  CONTENTS. 

•MB 

clothe  your  face  with  light — God  sends  the  rain  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good — 
How  everything  rejoices  at  its  coming — Let  our  bounty  be  like  our  Father's 
— Everybody  wants  the  rain — Never  a  time  when  all  are  ready  to  receive  it 
— So  many  say,  "  Not  yet/'  when  God  offers  his  richest  blessing — Why  not 
yet? 279 

XIV. 

GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

View  from  the  summit  of  the  Righi — Time,  midsummer — Contrasts  of  the  sce- 
nery— The  dawn — The  play  of  the  mists — The  snowy  peaks  and  glaciers — 
The  sun  rises — The  splendor  of  the  view — Importance  of  the  dew  in  giving 
freshness  to  the  scene — How  the  world  would  look  without  dew — Land  of 
Israel  peculiarly  dependent  on  dew — Dews  of  Hermon,  Tabor,  Gilboa — 
Effect  of  its  ceasing — Isaac's  blessing — Moses'  speech  like  the  dew — The 
dew  on  the  branch  of  Job — David's  curse  upon  Gilboa — Elijah's  curse  in 
the  time  of  Ahab — The  old  Hebrew  expressions  true  to  nature  still — The 
dew  comes  unsought  and  it  falls  while  we  sleep — Who  prays  for  it  ? — Who 
thanks  God  for  it? — The  world  would  go  mad  without  it — So  infinite  bless- 
ing comes  unsought — God  thinks  of  us  still  when  we  forget  him — Dew  falls 
in  gentleness  and  silence — No  dew  on  windy  nights — The  heavenly  Com- 
forter shuns  the  noise  and  excitement  of  the  world — Evil  effects  of  contro- 
versy— Benefit  of  quietness  and  meditation — Dew  falls  only  on  objects  pre- 
pared to  receive  it — On  the  same  night  some  objects  wet  and  others  not — 
The  stone,  the  dead  wood,  the  beaten  road  not  wet — Every  living  branch  is 
sure  to  be  watered — Dew  does  not  fall  on  bodies  that  are  slow  to  impart 
warmth — To  be  comforted  ourselves  we  must  comfort  others — Objects  to  be 
wet  must  have  nothing  between  them  and  heaven — Dew  does  not  fall  on  pol- 
ished steel  or  burnished  gold — Don't  make  religion  all  a  matter  of  taste — 
Mighty  effects  of  the  dew — Dew  caused  and  controlled  by  tremendous  power 
— Earthquake — Tornado — The  Spirit  gentle  yet  mighty — Grieve  him  not...  296 

XV. 

THE  RIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

Mountains,  seas,  rivers  harmonize  in  one  life — The  earth  dead  without  rivera — 
What  rivers  do — Break  through  mountains — Enrich  the  lowlands — Direct 
the  tide  of  emigration — The  great  scenes  of  history — Rivers  worshiped  by 
tho  heathen — Sacred  to  students  of  the  Bible — The  rivers  of  Paradise — 
Captives  by  the  river  of  Babylon — Moses  from  the  Nile  to  the  Jordan — 
Jacob  at  the  Jabbok — Elijah  at  the  Kishon — Elijah  at  the  Jordan — Naa- 
xnan,  Jesus,  John  on  the  banks  of  the  same  river — The  Kedron — The  river 
of  water  of  life — Eden  the  place  of  delight — The  river  of  God's  pleasures  is 
the  river  of  God's  Eden — To  drink  of  that  river  is  to  regain  Paradise— 
What  is  pleasure? — What  a  great  king,  a  great  author  and  a  great  poet 
said  about  happy  days — God  can  give  all — The  greatest  discovery — The 
life  and  death  of  a  great  philosopher — Of  a  slave — Which  found  most  to  liv« 
far  1 — A  mountain-stream  flooded — The  same  dry — An  emblem  of  earthly 


CONTENTS.  17 

•MB 

pleasure — A  full,  mighty  river — Such  God's  pleasures — Fountains  of  the 
Nile — River  flowing  through  a  desert — River  of  salvation  shall  flow  over 
all  the  earth 315 

XVI. 

THE   PRECIOUS   THINGS  OP   THE  HILLS. 

The  lot  of  Joseph  described  by  Moses — His  fond  anticipations  of  the  hill  country 
— Longing  for  the  hills  by  dwellers  in  Egypt — A  view  of  the  hills  granted 
as  a  last  favor  to  Moses — Hard  for  him  to  die  and  not  go  over  to  the  hills 
in  sight — His  ascent  of  Nebo — View  of  the  camp  on  the  plains — The  grand 
view — Lebanon,  Hermon,  Tabor,  Gilead,  Carmel,  Olivet,  Bethlehem — A 
view  of  hills  was  his  preparation  for  death — American  hills  are  all  God's 
work — An  excursion  among  hills  in  autumn — A  great  panorama — The 
colors,  variety,  shading,  beauty — God  shows  these  precious  hills  for  our 
pleasure  and  instruction — Earth  still  like  heaven — Light  from  the  hills- — 
How  beds  of  coal  and  reservoirs  of  oils  were  stored  up  in  the  hills — The 
forests  of  the  pre-Adamite  world — How  God  opened  these  old  treasuries  of 
the  hills — The  value  of  coal  and  iron — Their  many  uses — A  hill  country  the 
borne  of  the  highest  civilization — How  much  we  owe  to  the  hills 335 

XVIT. 
THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE   CLOUDS. 

Striking  appearance  of  the  clouds — Their  varied  forms  and  beauty — Earth  dull 
and  wearisome  without  clouds — God  reveals  himself  in  clouds — God's  bow 
in  the  cloud — The  pillar  of  cloud — The  descent  on  Sinai  in  thick  cloud — The 
clouds  his  chariot — The  cloud  of  the  transfiguration  and  ascension — Christ 
shall  return  in  the  clouds — The  balancings  of  the  clouds  hard  to  understand 
— Little  is  known  about  it  by  men  of  science — Why  do  the  waters  above  us 
not  fall  ? — Spreadings  of  the  clouds — Why  do  not  the  clouds  all  flow  to- 
gether ? — How  can  they  keep  their  form  ? — The  mottled  sky — God  must 
reveal  himself  only  in  part — Mystery  the  ground  of  faith — The  cloud  of 
mourning — Its  shadow  on  every  path — The  changing  lot  of  life — Death  of  a 
strong  man,  little  child — It  may  be  the  best  possible  thing  for  us  to  be  dis- 
appointed— The  cloud  an  image  of  earthly  hope — Varied  aspects  of  cloudr 
— The  voice  from  the  cloud,  "Come  up  hither" 051 

xvm. 

GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  THE  NIGHT. 

Two  doors  to  the  temple  of  truth — All  invited  to  enter — The  witness  of  the  word 
and  works  of  God  the  same — The  crown  of  the  year — Every  season  has  its 
blessing — The  constancy  of  nature  a  witness  for  God — Exactness  of  the 
covenant  of  day  and  night — Swiftness  of  the  earth's  motion,  length  of  its 
journeys,  yet  no  jar,  no  variation  in  time — Difficult  to  make  a  uniform  mo- 
B 


18  CONTENTS. 


tion — God's  hand  turns  the  earth  with  perfect  uniformity — An  astronomer 
observing  a  transit  of  one  of  Jupiter's  moons — Chances  that  it  might  not 
occur — No  failure — Consequences  of  increasing  or  diminishing  the  day  in 
the  least — Order  in  universal  nature — Egyptian  wheat — The  palm,  the 
cedar,  the  primrose,  the  oleander — Properties  of  plants  unchanged — God's 
word  as  unchangeable — Send  seeds  round  the  earth,  they  are  still  the 
same — Graft  the  pear  on  the  thorn,  still  a  pear — This  order  shall  go  on — 
We  trust  our  existence  to  its  continuance — In  like  manner  trust  the  word 
of  God— Don't  be  afraid  of  philosophy 367 

XIX. 

THE   TIME  OF  THE   SINGING. 

The  harmony  of  the  world  produced  by  the  balancing  of  forces — Suppose  the 
winter  were  not  arrested  at  the  appointed  bound — The  sun  continues  to  sink 
— Effect  on  vegetable  and  animal  bodies — Universal  death — A  frozen  world 
— The  ship  with  all  on  board  frozen — Such  scenes  the  consequence  of  leav- 
ing winter  to  its  course — The  spring  a  country  child — Yet  its  coming  brings 
joy  to  the  city — Appearance  of  new  life  everywhere — The  universal  resur- 
rection in  the  open  country — The  mountains,  streams,  fields,  forests  in 
spring — With  what  feelings  we  walk  in  the  country  in  spring — God  speaks 
in  the  revived  world  of  nature — Suppose  all  this  change  wrought  in  a  mo- 
ment— What  wonder  and  joy — Much  more  praise  God  for  its  quiet  and 
orderly  occurrence — Look  for  the  cause  behind  the  effect — The  breath  of 
spring  breathing  peace  as  Jesus  did — The  flowers  die,  the  quickened  spirit 
will  live  for  ever — Lesson  from  the  stork,  crane  and  swallow — The  very 
atones  cry  out — All  nature  utters  forth  God 385 

XX. 

EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

Cod  made  the  earth  for  man — He  was  a  long  time  in  building  the  house — He 
stored  it  with  riches — How  a  rich  father  builds  and  furnishes  a  house  for 
his  son — Everything  in  the  house  speaks  to  the  son  of  the  father — Our  house 
of  the  earth  should  always  remind  us  of  our  heavenly  Father — Everything 
we  see  is  a  thought  of  God — These  earthly  things  our  only  guide  to  teach 
us  how  God  builds  in  other  worlds — Our  Father's  kind  forethought  for  us 
in  fitting  up  our  earth-house — How  the  mountains,  the  hills,  the  plains,  the 
soil,  the  seas  were  formed — What  mighty  agencies  were  made  to  work  for 
us  ages  before  we  came  into  being — It  should  touch  our  hearts  that  our 
Father  thought  of  us  in  all  his  work— Should  be  easy  to  think  of  God— To 
think  of  him  as  his  kindness  demands  is  the  essence  of  religion — How  sea- 
men, merchants,  farmers  talk — Be  just  as  natural  in  religion — The  earth 
shows  that  God  is  displeased  at  the  great  wrong  done  here — A  dreadfu. 
thing  to  displease  Him  who  made  the  earth — The  earth  teaches  the  frailty 
of  man — One  universal  grave — What  shall  become  of  the  soul  when  the 
body  returns  to  earth  ?— The  earth  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  the  cross 403 


CONTENTS.  19 

X  X I T 

THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

MM 

The  divine  law  written  upon  stone — A  sanctuary  of  the  rocks — The  scene  at 
Sinai — The  rock  of  Horeb  sacred — Religious  veneration  for  the  ancient 
rocks — Great  events  in  history  associated  with  the  rocks — Jacob's  stone 
pillow  at  Bethel — The  memorial  which  he  set  up — Well  for  all  to  keep  me- 
mentoes of  good  resolutions — The  rocks  consecrated  in  the  history  of 
nations — The  great  stone  under  the  oak  in  Shechem — Every  heroic  nation 
has  its  stones  of  witness — Rocks  sacred  on  American  fields — The  rocks  a 
refuge  for  the  persecuted — David,  Elijah,  Jesus,  the  early  Christians,  found 
a  refuge  in  the  rocks — The  benefactors  of  the  world  found  in  caves  and  dun- 
geons— Bunyan,  Luther,  Jerome,  Paul — Great  truths  take  us  back  to  the 
rocks — What  the  world  owes  to  men  who  have  dwelt  in  caves  and  dungeons 
— A  man  like  a  great  rock — Eddystone  lighthouse — Such  a  beacon  is  a 
good  man—"  Stand  fast,  Crag  Ellachie!"— The  Rock  of  Ages— Experience  of 
a  traveler  in  Southern  Africa— Flee  to  the  Rock  of  Ages 419 

XXII. 

THE  PALM  TREE. 

Pre-eminence  of  the  cedar  and  palm — First  encampment  of  Israel  under  palms 
— Feast  of  Tabernacles  instituted — The  palms  and  fountains  of  Elim — HOMT 
we  find  Elims  in  the  journey  of  life— Jericho,  the  City  of  Palms— Deborah 
judging  Israel  under  a  palm — The  palm  used  everywhere  in  the  temple — 
Bethany,  the  Village  of  Palms — Palms  strewn  in  the  path  of  Jesus — His 
ascension  from  among  palms — Palms  in  heaven — General  appearance  of  the 
palm — Distinct  from  all  other  trees — So  stands  the  righteous  man — He  is 
the  strength  of  a  good  cause — The  truth  demonstrated  in  him — The  world 
needs  righteous  men  more  than  it  needs  money — Be  sure  you  are  right,  and 
let  success  come  as  it  will — The  palm  grows  from  within  outward — Palm 
grows  by  fountains — Its  many  uses — Prominence  in  Oriental  life — Godli- 
ness profitable  for  all  things — Briers  and  thorns — The  palm  shall  win  the 
day — The  hosts  of  heaven  with  palms  in  their  hands — A  great  song 437 


XXIIL 

THE   CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

Royal  rank  of  the  cedar  of  Lebanon — Belongs  to  a  great  family  of  trees — The 
oedar  king  of  all — Cedars  the  sign  of  prosperity  to  Israel — Forests  on  the 
hills  bring  the  rains — Bivouac  under  cedars — Balaam's  blessing — Solomon's 
cedars — A  thunder-storm  among  the  cedars — The  fall  of  the  cedar  in  Leba- 
non— Kings  likened  to  cedars — Ezekiel's  description  of  the  Assyrian  king 
as  a  mighty  cedar — The  righteous  man  is  the  king  of  men — Sinful  man  has 
lost  his  high  lineage — Longs  to  recover  it — The  sea-shell  murmurs  of  the 
sea — California  pine  planted  in  a  vase,  in  the  open  air — A  man  fettered  by 
earthly  chains,  free — Who  is  the  greatest  man  ? — Visit  to  the  death-chamber 
of  a  good  man — Steamship  struggling  with  the  tempest — Good  man  fighting 


20  CONTENTS. 

PASS 

with  temptation — Great  talent  not  necessary  to  success — Moser's  great 
organ  at  Freyburg — Its  wonderful  power — The  work  of  one  poor  man — 
How  any  young  man  can  become  a  king — The  high  and  firm  position  of  the 
cedar — Servants  of  God,  stand  firm 457 

XXIV. 

THE  FADING  LEAF. 

The  wail  of  the  ancient  prophet — The  dirge  of  the  dying  year — The  brightest 
hues  adorn  the  fading  leaves — The  splendors  of  the  r,utumn  woods — The 
fascinating  melancholy  of  the  closing  year — The  falling  leaves  teach  the 
frailty  of  man — Our  living  bodies  will  follow  the  fading  leaves — One  cou- 
dition  limits  and  overrules  all  earthly  plans — Soldiers  waiting  orders — We 
go  down  the  hill  faster  than  we  go  up — The  watching  servant — When  have 
we  lived  long  enough? — Milestones  on  the  heavenward  journey — Autumn 
the  time  for  thought — Impressions  from  the  sound  of  the  autumn  woods — 
The  happiest  life  is  one  of  thought — Some  things  we  should  all  know — The 
secret  history  of  a  human  soul — The  last  days  of  life  should  be  the  bright- 
est and  best — Traveling  in  October — A  great  price  for  a  picture — The  orig- 
inal to  be  had  for  nothing — The  heavenly  glory  that  adorns  the  last  days  of 
a  life  well  spent — The  triumphal  march — The  grand  reception 481 

XXV. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

Traditions  of  a  golden  age — The  intimacy  between  heaven  and  earth  at  that 
time — Lamentations  for  the  loss  of  that  happy  state — Origin  of  these  tra- 
ditions— Eden  a  garden  of  delight — The  first  man  was  complete  in  all  hie 
faculties — The  whole  creation  very  good — Man  the  last  and  greatest  work 
of  all— The  first  tree  was  full  grown— The  first  fruit  ripe— The  garden  of 
God  was  in  the  highest  state  of  order  and  cultivation  when  given  to  man 
— The  Lord  God  planted  the  trees,  arranged  the  walks,  selected  the  pro- 
ductions— Made  all  complete — Man  learned  language  from  God — Was  sup- 
plied with  clothing,  house,  implements,  and  instructions  by  his  Maker — 
The  first  man  was  not  a  savage — Nobody  could  invent  language — Theoriei 
of  philosophers — Man  not  developed  from  the  monkey — Modern  progress 
only  a  partial  return  to  the  first  perfect  state — How  man  first  lived — How 
the  lost  Paradise  may  be  regained 499 

XXVI. 

MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

Many  things  on  earth  great  and  wonderful — Man  the  greatest  of  all — Mysteries 
in  the  leaf,  in  the  atom,  the  grain  of  dust,  in  the  heavens,  in  instinct — 
Greater  mysteries  in  man — Man  the  climax  of  God's  work  in  creation — Rea- 
son for  Hamlet's  exclamation— Organs  of  the  body  wonderful— The  heart 
—Works  without  rest— Every  other  muscle  tires— Works  without  our  choice 


CONTENTS.  21 

PAOB 

—A  fearful  pendulum — The  tongue  — Complex,  delicate,  mighty — Capable 
of  millions  of  variations — The  tongue  a  world  in  itself — Its  mighty  power 
— The  power  of  words — Value  of  words — How  easily  the  strong  man  is 
crushed — Bruce  and  Speke — Meditations  in  the  midnight  train — Perils 
passed  in  safety — Perpetual  exposure — We  do  not  know  our  danger  or 
safety — Sleep  is  wonderful — Napoleon  sleeping  on  the  field  of  Austerlitz — 
The  fearful  change  in  waking — How  can  mind  he  imprisoned  in  the  body? 
— Mystery  of  remorse — Defence  of  a  good  conscience — Every  man  made  the 
keeper  of  his  own  happiness — The  restored  children  of  God 515 

XXVIL 

GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

The  traveler's  backward  look — Our  review — The  heavens — The  sounding  sea — 
The  mountains — Delight  in  the  clouds — The  constancy  of  day  and  night — 
Joy  in  the  spring — Lessons  of  the  flowers — Walk  in  the  forests — Rejoicing 
in  the  rain  and  dew — The  bow  in  the  cloud — Walks  through  our  Father's 
house — Final  wonder  at  ourselves  —  Mysteries  of  our  own  being — The 
grand  result,  God  all  in  all — The  answer  of  the  sea,  the  winds,  the  moun- 
tains, the  heavens — The  last  and  grandest  discovery  of  man — Not  a  mere 
mechanical  philosophy,  but  a  faith — Science,  accurate  knowledge,  helps  faith 
— The  Bible  and  true  philosophy  agree — The  inspired  men  of  old  were  not 
unphilosophical — The  impersonations  of  the  Bible  agree  with  science — God 
is  ever  revealing  himself — We  should  acquaint  ourselves  with  him — Every- 
thing speaks  of  him — The  universe  is  the  temple  of  his  glory — His  glory 
brightest  to  us  as  seen  in  Christ 541 


u 


The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God.—?*,  xix.  1. 


OUR  FATHER'S  HOUSE. 


1. 

GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

HE  early  life  and  peculiar  home  of  the  Psalmist 
of  Israel  made  him  familiar  with  the  aspect  of 
the  midnight  heavens.  When  a  shepherd  boy, 
he  had  learned  to  tell  the  stars  by  name  and  to 
count  them  his  companions,  as  he  kept  his  flocks  by 
night  on  the  hills  of  Bethlehem.  The  skies  that  bent 
over  him  were  without  a  cloud  for  half  the  year. 
The  heavenly  orbs  that  hung  like  golden  lamps  in 
the  blue  dome  shone  with  a  brightness  unknown  to 
northern  climes.  When  the  evening  star  came  forth 
over  the  dark  mountains  of  Moab,  and  the  blazing 
constellations  rode  up  the  eastern  heavens  in  the  same 
silent  and  orderly  march  nighfc  after  night,  he  must 
have  asked,  with  deep  earnestness,  whose  hand  led 
forth  the  fiery  host  upon  the  fields  of  light;  what 
unseen  power  preserved  the  celestial  armies  with  un- 
broken ranks  from  age  to  age ;  what  mighty  magazines 

25 


26  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

of  fuel  must  have  been  stored  up  from  of  old  to  keep 
so  many  fires  burning  from  century  to  century  ? 

Had  the  Psalmist  lived  in  our  time  he  would  have 
found  still  more  reason  to  ask  such  wondering  ques- 
tions as  he  gazed  upon  the  starry  heavens.  We  do 
indeed  know  more  than  he  did  of  the  number,  the 
distance  and  dimensions  of  the  celestial  host,  but 
our  increase  of  knowledge  only  baffles  and  confounds 
us  the  more,  because,  with  all  our  instruments  and 
calculations,  we  cannot  count  the  number,  we  cannot 
measure  the  distance,  we  cannot  conceive  the  immen- 
sity of  worlds  which  God's  creative  hand  has  strewn 
through  the  fields  of  immeasurable  space. 

In  this  course  of  Bible  lessons  from  the  book  of 
Nature  there  is  much  reason  why  we  should  begin 
with  the  star-illumined  scroll  of  the  skies.  Astron- 
omy is  the  oldest,  the  most  sacred  and  sublime  of  all 
the  sciences.  We  need  no  record  to  prove  its  ancient 
birth.  As  soon  as  human  curiosity  looked  out  through 
the  living  orb  of  the  eye,  it  must  have  turned  with  in- 
quiring gaze  toward  the  silent  orbs  of  heaven.  As 
soon  as  emotions  of  wonder  and  adoration  were  kin- 
dled into  life  on  the  altar  of  the  human  heart,  there 
must  have  been  devout  and  delighted  observers  of  the 
starry  host  whose  watchfires  flame  upon  the  measure* 
less  fields  of  the  sky. 

The  flower  that  opened  its  frail  beauty  within  reach 
of  the  observer's  hand,  the  wild  bird  that  lifted  up  its 
morning  song  in  welcome  of  the  returning  light,  the 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  27 

evening  cloud  that  curtained  the  couch  of  the  setting 
sun  with  its  crimson  glory,  the  rainbow  that  spanned 
the  pathway  of  the  retiring  storm  with  its  sevenfold 
arch,  might  indeed  for  a  few  moments  arrest  a  more 
vivid  and  delighted  attention;  but  when  they  had 
finished  their  brief  course  and  had  sunk  into  silence 
and  darkness,  the  lifted  eye  could  see  the  same  stars 
blooming  like  fire-tinted  blossoms  on  the  plains  of 
heaven,  undimmed  by  the  darkness  of  a  thousand 
storms,  unchanged  by  the  lapse  of  a  thousand  years. 
The  perfect  order  in  the  midst  of  apparent  confusion, 
the  calm  and  mysterious  constancy  with  which  the 
stars  kept  their  place  in  the  blue  vault  above,  must 
have  made  the  rudest  of  men  gaze  with  awestruck 
and  unsatisfied  wonder  upon  the  mysterious  and  unde- 
cipherable scroll  of  the  skies. 

As  the  tribes  of  the  human  family  scattered  in  their 
worldwide  dispersion  from  the  guarded  gate  of  Eden 
and  from  the  blasted  plains  of  Shinar,  in  all  climes 
and  continents  of  the  earth  they  saw  the  same  un- 
changing blazonry  upon  the  battlements  of  heaven. 
Wherever  they  chose  to  rest  or  roam — in  the  quiet 
homes  clustered  in  the  valleys  or  climbing  the  hill- 
sides, in  the  silence  of  the  desert  and  amid  the  rush 
and  roar  of  tumultuous  thousands  in  the  crowded  city. 
in  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness  and  upon  the  waste 
of  ocean — they  found  that  the  mysterious  stars  still 
kept  them  company  without  changing  their  place. 
The  same  bright  eyes  of  the  firmament  looked  down 


28  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

with  tender  pity  upon  their  sorrows  and  with  piercing 
reproach  upon  their  sins. 

When  guilty  fear  put  out  the  light  of  holy  love,  and 
superstition  usurped  the  place  of  devotion  in  the  hearts 
of  men,  they  transferred  the  monsters  of  their  own 
morbid  and  darkened  imaginations  to  the  skies.  They 
peopled  the  peaceful  plains  of  heaven  with  "  Gorgons, 
hydras  and  chimeras  dire."  They  made  the  celestial 
host  arbiters  of  their  own  destiny  and  gods  of  their 
own  worship,  in  place  of  Him  who  holds  the  stars  in 
his  right  hand. 

The  study  of  the  stars  should  have  been  a  science, 
and  it  should  have  reared  a  pathway  of  light  from 
earth  to  heaven.  It  should  have  built  shining  steps, 
on  which  mortals  might  reverently  climb  in  the  ever- 
ascending  way  to  the  throne  of  the  infinite  Creator. 
But  ignorance  and  superstition  made  the  study  of  the 
stars  a  religion.  They  changed  the  myriad  host  into 
deities,  whose  mysterious  power  was  supposed  to  rule 
over  men  with  an  all-pitiless  destiny.  They  made 
malignant  demons  of  the  burning  orbs  of  the  sky, 
whose  fickle  favor  must  be  secured,  and  whose  fiery 
wrath  must  be  averted  by  strange  offerings  and  for- 
bidden sacrifice. 

The  devotees  of  Baal  and  Ashtoreth  burned  incense 
and  made  night  hideous  with  perpetual  fires  on  the 
high  places  of  the  earth,  in  worship  of  the  host  of 
heaven.  The  Persian  made  altars  of  his  mountain- 
lops,  on  which  the  flame  of  sacrifice  was  as  constant  as 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS,  29 

the  stars.  He  bowed  himself,  morning  and  evening, 
to  adore  the  god  of  day,  whose  light  the  true  God  hath 
chosen  for  his  shadow.  In  the  valley  of  the  Nile  and 
of  the  Euphrates,  amid  the  snow-capped  mountains 
of  Thibet,  on  the  cold  tablelands  of  Central  Asia 
spotted  by  the  moving  tents  of  Tartar  and  Mongolian 
tribes,  beneath  the  sunny  skies  of  Greece  and  amid  the 
cold  mists  of  German  forests,  in  the  rude  cloisters  and 
roofless  temples  of  Druidic  and  Scandinavian  mythol- 
ogy, men  studied  the  same  awful  mystery  of  the  mid- 
night heavens,  till  curiosity  became  superstition  and 
students  were  changed  to  worshipers.  The  diagrams 
that  recorded  the  positions  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
were  exchanged  for  the  uncouth  signs  and  the  mystic 
jargon  of  the  astrologer.  The  lamp  by  which  the 
observer  studied  his  chart  by  night  gave  place  to  the 
perpetual  fire  of  profane  sacrifice  to  the  sun  and  moon, 
and  all  the  host  of  heaven. 

Such  was  astronomy  in  the  earliest  and  rudest  age. 
In  modern  times  it  has  become  the  most  exact,  and  yet 
it  still  remains  the  most  fascinating  and  sublime,  of  all 
the  sciences.  Familiarity  with  the  starry  worlds  of 
the  midnight  sky  has  not  rent  the  veil  of  awful  mys- 
tery with  which  they  inspired  the  devotion  of  the 
Egyptian  and  Chaldean  sages.  They  still  awaken,  in 
the  most  devout  and  cultivated  observers,  emotions  of 
the  most  profound  and  reverent  interest.  The  astron- 
omer has  rejected  the  fables  and  superstitions  of  an 
earlier  age.  He  makes  his  vast  estimates  of  number, 


30  +  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

time,  distance  and  magnitude  with  mathematical  accu- 
racy. He  avails  himself  of  the  results  of  three 
thousand  years  of  study  and  a  most  astonishing 
instrumental  power.  And  yet  he  cannot  tell  the  stars 
for  multitude,  any  more  than  he  can  count  the  sands 
on  the  sea-shore.  He  cannot  weigh  them  in  balances, 
although  his  calculus  can  take  up  the  earth  as  a  very 
little  thing.  He  cannot  reach  the  boundaries  of 
creation,  although  he  uses  a  measuring-line  two 
hundred  millions  of  miles  in  length,  and  he  throws  it 
out,  length  after  length,  over  the  fields  of  space,  faster 
than  the  surveyor  stretches  his  chain  over  the  fields  of 
earth.  His  utmost  measurement  of  space  only  serves 
to  disclose,  beyond  his  farthest  reach,  still  other 
unsounded  depths  and  heights  and  universes  of 
worlds,  to  which  all  that  he  has  seen,  measured  and 
counted  is  but  a  grain  of  sand  to  the  globe  he  treads 
upon. 

It  will  give  us  exalted  views  of  the  Supreme  Gov- 
ernor of  the  universe  if  we  consider  the  heavens 
under  any  aspect.  Let  us  observe  especially  the 
unchanging  order  of  the  starry  host.  Those  burning 
gems,  set  in  the  infinite  dome  of  the  sky  by  the  great 
Builder  of  worlds,  maintain  the  same  relative  position 
which  they  held  when  the  Psalmist  of  Israel  gazed  on 
the  firmament  from  the  heights  around  Bethlehem. 
They  shine  on  us  with  the  same  brightness  with  which 
they  gladdened  the  Chaldean  shepherds  on  their 
mountain-tops. 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  31 

Look  up,  on  any  night  when  the  stars  are  clear,  and 
you  will  see  on  its  post  the  same  sentinel  star  which 
God  commanded  of  old  to  guard  the  throne  of  the 
•eternal  North.  Arcturus  and  his  sons  are  still  circling 
around  the  Pole,  as  they  were  when  the  Almighty 
answered  Job  out  of  the  whirlwind,  and  challenged 
him  to  lead  forth  that  prince  of  the  ethereal  host  on 
his  way.  Orion  is  still  girt  with  his  blazing  bands  as 
he  climbs  the  steep  ascent  of  the  eastern  sky.  The 
sweet  influences  of  the  Pleiades  are  still  unbound. 
The  signs  and  seasons  are  still  numbered  upon  the 
glittering  belt  of  Mazzaroth. 

There  they  stand,  from  century  to  century,  upheld 
by  nothing  save  God's  invisible  -hand,  withdrawn  to  an 
inconceivable  distance  from  us  in  the  silent  and  awful 
depths  of  space — every  star  a  world,  and  many  of  them 
a  million  times  larger  than  our  earth — and  yet  there  is 
no  jar,  no  collision,  no  falling  out  of  the  ranks,  no 
change  of  place.  All  earthly  things  fade  and  pass 
away.  The  whole  order  of  human  society  has  been 
repeatedly  changed,  revolutionized  and  set  up  anew 
while  the  flood  of  ages  sweeps  along.  But  the  hosts  of 
heaven  are  marshaled  forth  in  the  same  symmetrical 
order  upon  the  measureless  fields  of  space.  The 
clouds  and  the  tempests  of  earth  have  not  dimmed  the 
light  of  the  stars.  The  shock  of  armies  and  the 
thunder  of  a  thousand  battles  have  not  shaken  one  gem 
from  the  diadem  of  night.  No  hostile  hand  has 
hurled  the  sons  of  the  morning  from  their  flaming 


32  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

thrones.  No  revolutionary  archangel  has  lifted  the 
standard  of  discord  and  conflict  upon  the  plains  of 
heaven.  God's  unwearied,  unaided  hand  still  holds 
up  the  firmament  with  its  millions  of  worlds.  He 
still  preserves  the  order,  the  harmony,  the  everlasting 
beauty  of  the  infinite  host. 

Nation  may  rise  against  nation  and  kingdom  against 
kingdom.  The  earth  may  shake  with  the  march  of 
armies,  and  the  day  may  be  turned  into  night  by  the 
cloud  of  battle.  It  may  seem  to  us  that  the  founda- 
tions of  order  are  broken  up,  and  that  universal  ruin 
will  "  drive  her  ploughshare  o'er  creation."  But  the 
calm,  unchanging  heavens  look  down  on  us  with  silent 
pity  and  rebuke  our  fears.  The  unseen  Hand  which 
holds  the  immensity  of  worlds  in  their  place  can  surely 
preserve  order  and  fulfill  its  own  purposes  on  the  little 
spot  of  earth  where  we  dwell. 

Now,  suppose  that  such  thoughts  occupy  your  mind 
as  you  consider  the  starry  splendors  of  the  night  which 
God  has  ordained  to  declare  his  glory.  You  are  striv- 
ing to  rise  above  all  the  change  and  conflict  and  con- 
fusion of  earth,  and  to  bring  order  and  serenity  into 
your  soul  by  the  devout  contemplation  of  the  con- 
stancy, the  divine  order,  the  sacred  silence  of  the  starry 
worlds  above  you.  Suddenly  you  are  startled  by  what 
seems  the  brightest  of  all  the  host  of  heaven  rushing 
across  the  sky  with  furious  speed,  breaking  the  rela- 
tive order  and  harmony  with  which  each  maintains 
its  position  and  conforms  its  motion  to  that  of  the 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  33 

whole  firmament  of  stars,  withdrawing  attention  from 
them  by  its  own  terrific  light,  perhaps  giving  forth  a 
sound  as  of  rushing  waters  or  of  distant  thunder,  and 
then  disappearing  in  darkness. 

That  strange  appearance  forces  upon  your  mind  tho 
fearful  inquiry,  "  Can  that  be  a  lost  world  ?  Is  it  thus 
that  the  Almighty  hurls  the  rebellious  sons  of  the 
morning  from  their  thrones  of  light  ?  Has  some  in- 
cendiary archangel  kindled  the  torch  of  revolution 
and  discord  upon  the  peaceful  plains  of  heaven  ?" 

Saddened  and  almost  affrighted  by  the  thought, 
you  turn  to  look  for  the  space  which  has  been  left 
void  and  dark  by  the  fall  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the 
starry  host.  But  the  night  has  not  lost  a  gem.  Not 
a  single  ray  has  faded  from  her  ancient  glory.  She 
still  moves  on  in  the  same  solemn  silence,  her  train 
still  glittering  with  the  same  magnificent  garniture  of 
worlds.  That  strange  light  was  only  a  transient 
meteor,  kindled  and  quenched  in  the  earth's  stormy 
and  sulphurous  atmosphere.  It  is  only  the  mistaken 
glance  of  the  moment  which  has  led  you  to  transfer 
the  disorder  and  ruin  of  this  groaning  habitation  of 
man  to  the  serene  and  unchanging  heavens. 

That  apparent  star,  which  dimmed  all  others  with 
its  dazzling  light,  and  which  emblazoned  so  wide  a 
track  across  the  sky  in  its  fall,  was  no  more  in  dista.nce 
or  dimensions,  when  compared  with  the  least  of  the  real 
stars,  than  the  dewdrop  of  the  morning,  which  scarcely 

bends  the  slightest  blade  of  grass,  is  to  the  ocean,  which 
c 


34  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

rolls  its  measureless  waters  upon  the  shores  of  every 
land.  And  after  its  brief  passage,  when  the  eye  looks 
calmly  into  the  blue  depths  of  night,  you  can  still  see, 
far  beyond  the  region  where  the  meteor  flames  and 
expires,  far  beyond  the  path  of  the  solar  light,  the 
same  stars  shining  with  the  same  serene  and  awful 
silence  still. 

And  surely  it  must  be  the  main  concern  of  life  with 
us  to  keep  ourselves  at  peace  with  Him  whose  unaided 
hand  holds  up  the  heavens  with  their  millions  of 
worlds.  Surely  it  must  be  the  height  of  madness  to 
oppose  the  will  of  him  who  preserves  the  order,  the 
harmony,  the  everlasting  beauty  of  this  great  empire 
from  age  to  age.  Disobedience  to  him  is  the  only  dis- 
cord that  has  ever  disturbed  the  peace  or  darkened  the 
light  of  the  universe.  Disobedience  to  him  alone  has 
brought  misery  and  desolation  upon  our  suffering 
world.  Disobedience  to  him  has  kindled  all  the  fires 
that  burn,  and  caused  all  the  tempests  that  rage  in  the 
guilty  soul.  To  sin  against  God  is  to  set  oneself 
against  the  power  that  holds  uncounted  millions  of 
worlds  in  their  orbits.  To  sin  against  God  is  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  divine  purposes  which  are  from  ever- 
lasting, the  fulfilment  of  which  is  the  harmony  and 
the  happiness  of  immortal  millions.  To  sin  against 
God  is  such  blindness  and  madness  as  it  would  be  for 
a  feeble  man  to  lift  his  hand  to  sweep  the  sun  from  the 
heavens  and  to  blot  out  the  stars  from  the  sky. 

God  makes  the  night,  and  brings  forth  troops  of 


QOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  35 

«tars  upon  the  plains  of  heaven,  to  show  us  that  our 
little  world  is  not  the  whole  of  his  kingdom,  and  that 
he  will  not  want  for  subjects  to  celebrate  his  glory, 
though  the  whole  race  of  man  should  renounce  tis 
service  and  madly  say,  "there  is  no  God."  Nation 
may  rise  against  nation  and  kingdom  against  kingdom 
The  earth  may  shake  with  the  march  of  armies,  and 
the  day  may  be  darkened  with  the  cloud  of  battle. 
It  may  seem  to  us  that  the  foundations  of  order  are 
broken  up,  and  that  there  is  no  voice  to  say  with  com- 
manding power  to  the  troubled  elements,  "Peace,  be 
still."  But  when  man's  brief  day  of  struggle  and 
agony  and  death  is  over,  the  night  marshals  forth 
God's  host,  with  all  their  beacon-fires  still  burning, 
upon  the  plains  of  heaven.  The  calm,  unchanging 
immensity  of  worlds  above  looks  down  in  silent  and 
reproachful  pity  upon  the  pride  and  contention  which 
shake  the  war-convulsed  earth.  Listen,  O  man,  to  the 
voice  which  comes  from  the  untroubled  deep  where 
the  sons  of  the  morning  sing  upon  their  sapphire 
thrones  ! — 

"  What  art  thou,  poor  worm  of  the  dust,  that  thou 
shouldest  glory  in  thy  strength,  or  spend  thy  puny 
might  in  working  discord  in  the  government  of  the 
God  that  made  thee?  Thou  art  but  a  mote  upon  the 
surface  of  the  great  globe  which  has  been  given  thee 
for  thy  habitation.  One  hour  of  silent  sunshine  will 
do  more  to  change  the  face  of  the  earth  than  millions 
of  mQ,r  can  do  in  a  lifetime  of  toil.  With  all  the 


36  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

united  force  of  all  thine  armies,  thou  canst  not  wounu 
the  fair  face  of  the  earth  so  deeply  as  one  surge  of  the 
pent-up  fires  that  burn  beneath  thy  feet.  One  tremble 
of  the  earthquake,  one  throb  in  the  fiery  heart  of  the 
volcano,  one  hour  of  the  ocean's  stormy  wrath,  the 
removal  of  one  element  from  the  air,  the  water  or  the 
light,  will  do  more  to  change  the  globe  than  all  thine 
arts  and  engines  in  years  of  toil.  And  yet  the  whole 
earth  of  thy  habitation  is  but  a  single  mote  in  the 
star-dust  with  which  God's  creative  hand  has  strewn 
the  skies.  And  the  night  bids  thee  look  forth  upon 
the  world-peopled  plains  of  immensity,  that  thou 
mayst  see  thine  insignificance  and  be  ashamed  of  all 
thy  pride." 

Are  you  ever  disposed  to  overrate  your  individual 
importance  in  the  creation  of  God — to  glory  in  talent, 
in  success,  in  acquisitions,  in  personal  accomplishments? 
Or  does  disappointment  ever  weigh  heavy  upon  your 
heart,  making  you  sometimes  even  doubt  whether  the 
government  of  the  universe  be  sufficiently  wise  and 
strong?  Go  out  beneath  the  open  heavens  at  night, 
and  take  a  lesson  in  faith  and  humility  from  God's 
great  star-book  of  the  skies.  Consider  whether  the 
hand  that  has  held  millions  of  worlds  in  their  place, 
without  weariness,  for  thousands  of  centuries,  needs  to 
be  strengthened  by  your  puny  might  ?  Consider  that 
the  humblest  human  being  on  earth  can  enjoy  the  love 
and  protection,  can  be  adopted  as  the  son  and  heir,  of 
a  Being  who  can  make  a  million  worlds  for  every  par- 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  37 

dele  of  dust  that  the  whirlwind  strews  on  the  sunbeam, 
and  not  diminish  his  riches  nor  task  his  power. 
Consider  how  much  reason  you  can  have,  either  for 
pride  or  despondency,  when  the  worlds  of  God's 
creation  are  so  many  that  no  creature  can  count  them, 
and  the  promise  of  God  to  every  soul  that  trusts  him 
is  so  sure  that  he  will  suffer  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
to  pass  away  and  perish,  rather  than  fail  to  fulfill  the 
desire  of  them  that  fear  him.  How  can  you  fear,  or 
murmur,  or  be  disappointed  when  the  calm  and  holy 
sons  of  the  morning  are  ever  singing  into  your  heart 
the  great  lessons  of  peace,  humility  and  trust  in  Him 
who  holds  the  stars  in  his  right  hand,  feeds  the  spar- 
row, clothes  the  lily,  and  feels  an  especial  and  paternal 
interest  in  every  soul  that  he  has  created  ?  All  the 
power  and  wisdom  which  God  displays  in  maintaining 
the  order  and  constancy  of  the  universe  of  worlds  are 
pledged  to  provide  for  your  safety  and  happiness,  now 
and  for  ever,  upon  the  single  condition  that  you  trust 
him  and  keep  his  word.  What  then  can  the  greatest 
and  wisest  of  men  have  to  be  proud  of,  what  the 
poorest  and  lowest  to  complain  of,  when  the  safety,  the 
glory,  the  blessedness  of  all  must  consist  equally  m 
possessing  the  favor  of  that  infinite  One  whose  glory 
is  displayed  by  the  midnight  heavens,  and  whose 
handiwork  is  seen  in  the  firmament  of  stars  ? 

To  do  God's  will  brings  divine  peace  and  harmony 
into  the  most  troubled  soul.  To  trust  God'*  word 
calms  every  fear  and  heals  every  sorrow  of  the  most 


38  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

afflicted  heart.  To  study  God's  work  sets  all  faculties, 
desires  and  dispositions  into  sweet  and  happy  accord 
with  the  one  holy  and  perfect  Will  which  upholds 
all  worlds,  rules  all  destinies  and  gives  all  good.  Oh 
for  some  mighty  power,  some  word  of  infinite  love, 
some  spirit  of  divine  reconciliation  to  cast  out  the 
wicked  and  tormenting  demon  of  discord  and  disobe- 
dience from  this  whole  world,  and  to  bring  every  soul 
into  peaceful  and  blessed  harmony  with  the  Will  that 
is  highest  and  best ! 

The  infinite  love  of  God  has  undertaken  that  great 
work  of  new  creation.  We  live  in  the  day  of  its 
progress,  and  faith  looks  forward  to  its  completion. 
The  cross  of  Christ  is  the  divine  instrumentality  for 
accomplishing  this  mighty  change.  The  utmost  power 
and  truth  and  glory  of  the  gospel  are  in  full  display 
all  around  us,  to  bring  the  perfect  order  of  the  peaceful 
heavens — God's  own  divine  and  eternal  harmony — into 
every  soul.  Let  all  men  fully  receive  the  healing  and 
reconciling  spirit  of  Jesus,  and  there  will  be  no  more 
conflict  or  disorder  in  this  world  than  there  is  among 
the  silent  stars.  Oh  that  every  weary  and  troubled 
soul  would  look  for  peace  to  Him  who  wore  the  crown 
of  thorns  on  earth,  and  who  walks  among  the  golden 
lamps  of  heaven ! 

The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  by  their  vast- 
ness  of  extent.  We  think  it  a  long  voyage  to  cross 
the  Atlantic  ocean.  We  should  have  to  travel  that 
distance  ten  thousand  times  before  we  could  reach  our 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  39 

nearest  planetary  neighbor  revolving  in  company 
with  us  around  the  sun.  To  reach  the  most  remote 
of  the  little  family  of  planets  belonging  to  our  system 
we  must  travel  a  million  times  as  far  as  from  Phila- 
delphia to  San  Francisco.  Our  earth  is  twenty-five 
thousand  miles  round,  and  yet  light  flies  with  such 
inconceivable  velocity  that  it  would  encompass  our 
earth  five  times,  while  we,  with  "moderate  haste," 
pronounce  the  word.  The  nearest  star  which  we  see 
in  the  heavens  is  so  far  remote  that  its  light  takes  three 
years  in  reaching  our  eye.  The  light  of  the  polar 
star,  which  guides  the  mariner  on  the  ocean  to-night, 
left  its  distant  home  before  the  birth  of  some  whose 
heads  are  already  gray  with  years.  Long  as  the  man 
who  is  ten  years  past  middle  life  has  lived  in  the 
world,  the  quenchless  beam  has  been  flying  across  the 
abyss  of  space,  near  two  hundred  thousand  miles  at 
every  swing  of  the  pendulum,  and  it  reaches  the 
mariner's  eye  only  this  moment.  That  ray  of  light 
is  God's  messenger,  and  it  cannot  be  lost  till  it  has 
done  the  errand  of  its  destiny. 

And  still  more  than  this.  You  have  only  to  look 
up  on  any  clear  night,  and  you  will  see  stars  whose 
light  has  been  on  its  journey  millions  of  years  to  meet 
your  eye.  The  star  which  you  see  to-night  may  have 
been  blotted  out  of  existence  a  million  years  before  the 
creation  of  man.  And  yet  the  stream  of  light  which 
was  on  its  way,  and  by  which  it  is  seen,  will  continue 
to  come  for  a  million  of  years  in  the  future. 


40  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

The  dimensions  of  the  stars  are  as  astonishing  as 
their  distance.  Arcturus  sends  forth  a  flood  of  lighi 
live  hundred  times  as  great  as  our  noonday.  Our  sur 
is  more  than  a  million  times  as  large  as  our  earth 
and  yet  one  star  in  the  Pleiades  is  equal  in  glory  tc 
twelve  hundred  of  our  suns.  And  there  are  eight  eer 
millions  of  suns  in  the  system  to  which  our  sun  be- 
longs as  one.  And  astronomers  have  discovered  foui 
thousand  such  systems — seventy-two  thousand  millions 
of  suns,  and  every  sun  doubtless  surrounded  by  a  thou- 
sand lesser  worlds. 

And  every  increase  of  power  in  the  telescope  in- 
creases the  number  of  suns  and  systems  that  blaze 
upon  the  eye,  and  confound  all  our  conceptions  of 
number  and  distance  and  dimensions.  The  mosl 
learned  and  accurate  observer — the  one  who  has  the 
greatest  command  of  instruments  and  methods  of  cal- 
culation— is  most  astonished  and  overwhelmed  by  the 
immensity  of  God's  works  in  the  starry  heavens.  If 
we  had  the  intelligence  of  archangels,  and  could  fty 
with  the  swiftness  of  light,  and  we  should  spend  mil- 
lions of  years  in  traveling  from  world  to  world  survey- 
ing the  works  of  God,  we  should  still  be  compelled  tc 
say,  with  more  meaning  than  Job,  "  Lo,  these  are  part* 
of  his  ways,  but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him  \ 
But  the  thunder  of  his  power  who  can  understand  ?" 

Let  me  ask  you  to  look  steadily  at  yonder  star 
which,  for  the  sake  of  distinction,  we  say,  is  in  the 
sword  of  Orion.  The  night  is  clear  and  your  eye  it 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  41 

good.  See,  now  it  assumes  an  indefiniteness  not  com- 
mon to  small  stars.  Now  look  through  this  small 
telescope,  with  which  beginners  feel  their  way  through 
the  bewildering  maze  of  careering  worlds.  Lo,  now  it 
has  lost  all  the  aspect  of  a  star  and  become  a  diffused 
haze — a  floating  mist.  Now  turn  to  this  instrument 
of  greater  power.  Still  you  see  nothing  but  a  ghostly 
mist,  towering  up  into  the  most  strange  and  fantastic 
forms,  with  wide-branching  arms  extended  as  if  grop- 
ing for  prey  in  the  infinite  darkness  of  space,  and  with 
an  awful  mouth,  gaping  wide  enough  to  swallow  a 
million  worlds.  Again,  we  suppose  ourselves  standing 
with  Sir  John  Herschel  under  the  brilliant  dome  of 
a  South  African  sky,  begging  the  opportunity  to  look 
through  the  mighty  instrument  with  which  he  surveys 
the  heavens  in  that  transparent  air.  Still,  we  find  no 
trace  of  a  star — nothing  but  the  same  awful,  misty  arms 
stretched  out  over  the  dismal  blackness  of  space ;  the 
same  horrid  mouth  opening  beneath  a  forehead  decked 
with  a  misty  plume,  armed  with  a  horn  millions  of 
leagues  in  length,  and  gashed  with  an  abysmal  chasm 
which  it  would  take  light  centuries  to  cross. 

Undaunted  by  the  obstinacy  with  which  the  mysteri- 
ous mist  refuses  to  disclose  the  secret  of  its  form  and 
constitution,  we  call  to  our  aid  a  still  higher  power  with 
which  to  pierce  the  awful  darkness  of  space.  Lord 
Rosse  lends  us  the  use  of  his  great  mirror  of  four  ton? 
weight  to  gather  the  pale  light  from  the  awful  monster 
who3e  faintly  phosphorescent  form  lies  afloat  in  the  infi- 


42  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

nite  ocean  of  immensity.  And  yet  there  it  is  still-  a 
dim,  cloudy  haze,  extending  through  immeasurable 
reaches  of  space,  without  a  trace  of  a  star ;  more  bril- 
liant indeed  in  some  of  its  parts,  with  some  of  its  misty 
outlines  at  the  centre  broken  up,  and  innumerable 
streamers  floating  off  in  every  direction  from  the  sides  ; 
but  still  a  nebula,  a  filmy  smoke,  out  of  which  the 
mighty  Kossian  telescope  cannot  kindle  up  the  shining 
spark  or  the  pointed  flame  of  a  single  star. 

One  trial  more.  Slowly  and  reverently  we  ascend 
the  watch-tower  from  which  the  great  refractor  at 
Cambridge  looks  out  upon  the  evening  sky.  We  take 
our  seat  in  the  observer's  chair  with  deep  awe,  for  we 
are  in  the  presence  of  the  Infinite — we  are  covered  by 
the  shadow  of  Eternity.  Now,  at  last,  we  see  the 
great  sight  for  which  hitherto  we  have  sought  in  vain. 
The  misty  cloud  bursts  into  a  blaze  of  distinct  stars. 
The  awful  nebula  that,  like  some  Oriental  monarch, 
had  inflamed  and  baffled  all  curiosity  by  withdrawing 
itself  into  the  far  depths  of  its  infinite  habitation,  at 
last  lifts  up  its  cloudy  veil  and  looks  forth  with  its 
million  eyes  to  reward  the  reverent  and  eager  search 
of  man.  The  misty  horror  of  the  previous  indistinct 
form,  like  the  monsters  of  old  superstitions,  kindles 
into  robes  of  beauty  and  crowns  of  glory  before  the 
penetrating  gaze  of  the  great  glassy  eye  with  which  we 
now  sweep  the  heavens.  And  the  light  which  tells 
us  that  the  nebulous  star  in  the  sword  of  Orion  is  a 
system  of  worlds  has  been  flying  ten  millions  of  miles 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  43 

a  minute,  for  sixty  thousand  years,  to  bring  us  that 
message. 

There  are  countless  nebulae,  like  that  in  Orion, 
every  one  of  which  is  a  universe  of  worlds,  so  numerous 
that,  at  their  immeasurable  distance,  they  seem  through 
the  telescope  to  be  thick  as  the  shining  particles  of  dust 
strewn  on  the  sunbeam  by  a  gust  of  wind  sweeping 
along  a  dry  and  sandy  road.  And  these  fleecy  clouds, 
together  with  the  brightest  stars  in  the  firmament,  are 
so  far  remote  that,  if  we  should  take  the  beams  of  the 
morning  for  wings,  and  fly  as  fast  and  as  far  as  light 
can  travel  in  ten  years,  moving  ten  millions  of  miles  a 
minute,  and  then  look  up,  we  should  still  see  Orion 
blazing  in  the  eastern  sky  at  his  wonted  hour,  and 
Arcturus  and  his  sons  maintaining  their  solemn  ma  "cli 
around  the  Pole. 

The  telescope,  in  its  greatest  power,  penetrates  f!  ye 
hundred  times  farther  into  the  depths  of  space  than 
the  unassisted  eye.  We  can  see  without  its  help  stars 
and  nebulae  so  remote  that  no  calculations  of  the 
astronomer  can  estimate  their  distance.  And  yet  the 
great  telescope  shows  us  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
millions  of  such  heavens  as  the  Psalmist  saw.  The 
astronomer  sees  the  sky  in  every  direction  powdered 
with  stars,  strewn  through  the  fields  of  space  thick  as 
the  rain-drops.  Every  addition  to  the  power  of 
instruments  only  increases  proportionally  the  number 
of  stars,  suns,  systems  that  are  seen.  We  are  war- 
ranted, therefore,  in  the  inference  that  all  that  the 


44  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

human  eye  has  yet  seen  by  the  aid  of  the  mightiest 
instruments  is  but  a  point,  a  single  grain,  amid  the 
infinitude  of  worlds  and  universes  which  have  been 
formed  by  the  all-creating  hand,  and  which  are  upheld 
by  the  all-sustaining  word,  of  God. 

Our  earth  supports  one  thousand  millions  of  human 
beings.  And  yet  there  are  living  creatures,  perfectly 
formed,  with  a  full  set  of  faculties,  so  small,  so 
numerous,  that  it  would  take  eight  hundred  millions 
of  worlds  like  ours  to  contain  a  human  population 
equal  to  the  number  of  those  creatures  which  can  live 
and  move  in  one  cubic  inch  of  space.  Some  of  these 
inconceivably  small  creatures  multiply  at  the  rate  of 
one  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  millions  in  a  hun- 
dred hours.  Every  one  of  them  has  a  distinct  and 
independent  life,  and  every  one  of  them  is  cared  for  by 
Him  who  feeds  the  sparrow,  numbers  the  hairs  of 
our  heads  and  upholds  all  worlds  with  the  word  of 
his  power. 

And  surely  He  who  has  multiplied  forms  of  life 
beyond  all  finite  conception  in  this  world,  has  not  left 
the  countless  millions  of  worlds  in  his  great  kingdom 
without  living  inhabitants  to  enjoy  his  gifts  and  to 
declare  his  glory.  If  the  greatest  astronomer  cannot 
count  or  measure  the  suns  and  systems  that  blaze  in 
the  midnight  heavens  because  they  are  so  many,  so 
vast,  so  far  remote,  how  much  less  can  we  conceive  the 
numbers  and  orders  and  generations  of  living  creatures 
for  whom  the  great  creating  Father  hath  provided 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  45 

habitations  and  happiness  in  all  the  universe  of  worlds 
which  declare  his  glory ! 

This  one  mighty  God  claims  and  deserves  our  first 
and  loftiest  thought,  our  purest  and  most  intense  affec- 
tion. The  measureless  fields  and  the  unfathomed  abysses 
of  space  are  all  ablaze  with  his  glory.  And  shall  we 
not  worship  him  ?  Shall  we  not  sound  forth  his  praise 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth?  His  will  is  the  sole  law 
which  suns  and  systems  obey  as  they  move  in  their 
orderly  march  upon  the  fields  of  immensity  from  age 
to  age.  And  shall  we  set  up  our  will  against  his? 
Shall  we  enter  into  conflict  with  Him  who  is  the  source 
of  all  power,  and  from  whose  heart  of  infinite  love 
flow  forth  waves  of  blessing  to  every  creature  in  the 
universe? 

There  is  no  madness  so  extreme,  there  is  no  blind- 
ness so  dark  and  terrible  and  debasing,  as  that  of  the 
man  who  will  not  see  the  witness  of  God  in  his  won- 
drous works.  Every  faculty  of  our  being,  every  means 
of  existence  and  happiness,  every  comfort  and  blessing 
of  life,  comes  from  God.  And  shall  we  take  the  gift 
yet  deny  the  Giver  ?  God's  creative  power  has  called 
into  existence  every  ray  of  light  that  shines  and  every 
system  of  worlds  that  rolls  in  immensity.  The  breath 
of  the  Almighty  has  given  life  to  the  smallest  insect 
and  to  the  mightiest  archangel.  Creatures  so  minute 
that  millions  sport  in  the  drop  of  water,  suns  so  vast 
that  their  light  is  a  thousand  times  greater  than  our 
noonday,  are  all  held,  moment  by  moment,  in  God'? 


46  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  • 

hand.  And  shall  we,  frail  children  of  the  dust  as  we 
are,  and  crushed  before  the  moth,  shall  we  entertain 
the  thought  of  living  without  God  ? 

The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God  by  directing 
all  our  observations  to  one  common  centre  of  power 
and  motion  and  life  for  all  creatures  and  all  worlds. 
The  moon  revolves  around  our  earth.  The  earth, 
with  its  associate  planets,  revolves  around  the  sun. 
The  sun,  with  all  its  circling  planets,  moons,  asteroids, 
comets,  is  rushing  along  upon  a  still  mightier  orbit, 
thirty-three  millions  of  miles  in  a  year,  in  a  revolution 
which  it  will  take  eighteen  hundred  thousand  years  to 
accomplish.  All  the  infinite  host  of  heaven  is  grouped 
into  clusters  and  systems,  that  revolve,  orbit  within 
orbit  and  world  around  world,  until  a  firmament  of 
millions  of  suns  is  balanced  by  another  as  great,  and 
all  go  sweeping  together  around  some  mightier  centre ; 
and  so  suns,  whose  light  has  been  millions  of  years  in 
reaching  us,  are  all  rushing,  as  if  driven  by  hurricanes 
of  infinite  power,  round  some  mysterious  centre  still 
mightier,  still  more  remote. 

Thus  all  the  way  up,  through  moons  and  planets  and 
suns  and  systems  and  universes,  the  whole  immensity 
of  worlds  is  yielding  obedience  to  some  far  remote  and 
mighty  Power,  whose  mysterious  source  we  cannot  find, 
whose  living  presence  is  everywhere,  whose  supreme 
authority  is  felt  in  every  soul.  When  we  sweep  the 
heavens  with  the  mightiest  telescope,  and  we  look  with 
dazzled  eye  and  aching  brain  amid  the  infinite  blaze  of 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  47 

worlds  to  find  the  one  central  throne,  around  which  all 
suns  and  systems  revolve,  a  voice  comes  from  the  abysses 
and  the  ages  of  eternity,  saying,  "  Canst  thou  by  search- 
ing find  out  God?  Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty 
to  perfection?  It  is  high  as  heaven;  what  canst  thou 
do?  Deeper  than  hell;  what  canst  thou  know?77 

Such  is  the  immensity  of  the  creation  of  God ;  such 
the  inconceivable  length  of  the  time  through  which  he 
carries  forward  his  mighty  works ;  such  the  greatness 
of  the  power  which  he  puts  forth  in  maintaining  the 
harmony  of  his  boundless  empire.  What,  then,  is  man 
that  the  Sovereign  of  so  many  worlds  should  be  mind- 
ful of  him  ? 

To  this  question  science  and  revelation  each  has 
its  own  answer.  Science,  as  if  afraid  that  the  tele- 
scope would  make  skeptics  of  us  all,  brings  the  micro- 
scope to  its  aid,  and  turns  our  attention  from  the 
inconceivably  great  to  the  inconceivably  small.  It 
shows  us  that  the  worlds  below  us  are  as  infinite  as 
those  above.  It  shows  us  that  creative  wisdom  is  as 
clearly  manifest  in  creatures  so  small  that  they  cannot 
be  seen  by  the  unassisted  eye,  as  in  the  systems  of 
worlds  so  numerous,  so  far  remote  that  they  seem  like 
dust  strewn  on  the  evening  sky.  Science,  having  daz- 
zled our  vision  and  bewildered  our  minds  with  the  in- 
finite blaze  of  suns  and  systems  of  worlds,  shows  us 
millions  of  perfectly  organized  beings  in  a  drop  of 
water.  We  see  that  their  structure,  their  faculties, 
their  means  of  support  and  modes  of  living,  have  all 


48  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

been  cared  for  by  the  infinite  Creator.  And  we  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  the  God  who  cares  for  creatures  so 
small  will  be  more  mindful  of  man. 

Revelation  teaches  us  to  call  the  Maker  of  all  worlds 
our  Father,  and  to  believe  that  he  cares  for  us  with 
more  than  an  earthly  parent's  love.  Revelation  teaches 
us  that  our  Father  has  actually  given  an  infinite  price 
that  he  may  win  our  confidence  and  hold  the  first  place 
in  our  hearts.  And  we  are  happy  at  last  to  believe  that 
God,  who  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth  and  breathed 
the  breath  of  immortality  into  man's  soul,  is  so  great  as 
to  surpass  all  finite  comprehension.  We  can  ask  in- 
finite blessings  of  him,  without  fearing  that  his  bounty 
will  ever  be  exhausted  with  giving.  We  can  trust  in 
his  protection,  with  the  assurance  that  we  can  never 
go  beyond  the  reach  of  his  hand.  We  can  call  upon 
him  in  the  time  of  trouble,  and  never  fear  that  he  will 
be  too  far  remote  to  hear  our  cry.  In  the  day  of 
calamity  we  can  shelter  ourselves  beneath  the  shadow 
of  his  throne,  and  he  will  cover  us  in  his  secret  place 
till  the  tempest  is  past. 

This  great  God,  whose  glory  shines  from  the  heavens 
and  whose  power  upholds  millions  of  worlds,  is  our 
Father.  You  have  only  to  love  him,  and  be  as  a  little 
child  in  faith  and  affection,  and  he  will  pledge  the 
promise  of  his  immutable  word  and  the  riches  of  his 
infinite  empire  that  you  shall  never  want  for  any  good 
thing.  You  have  only  to  become  like  the  meek  and 
lowly  Christ  in  heart  and  life,  and  God  will  make  you 


GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS.  49 

an  lieir  of  his  kingdom  with  his  own  Son,  and  you 
shall  possess  and  enjoy  that  infinite  inheritance  for  ever. 

You  have  only  to  learn  diligently  and  cheerfully 
the  lessons  which  God's  word  and  providence  now  set 
before  you,  and  by  and  by  the  veil  will  be  lifted,  the 
doors  of  your  Father's  house  will  be  thrown  open,  and 
you  shall  be  free  to  range  through  all  its  million-fold 
mansions ;  you  shall  have  full  access  to  all  its  infinite 
delights.  Wings  of  light  shall  be  given  you  to  fly 
with,  angels  shall  stand  ready  to  bear  you  company  in 
traversing  God's  mighty  kingdom ;  and  as  they  lead 
you  on  and  show  you  the  way,  they  shall  tell  you  all 
that  they  have  learned  in  thousands  of  years  of  study. 
With  a  wing  that  never  tires,  and  a  curiosity  that  is 
never  satisfied,  you  shall  sweep  on  with  the  blaze  of 
suns  upon  your  path  and  the  rush  of  planets  around 
you.  With  the  immortal  sons  of  the  morning  for 
your  guides  you  shall  pass  over  immeasurable  reaches 
of  space,  where  towering  constellations  scale  the 
heights  of  eternity,  where  infinite  abysses  of  starry 
worlds  are  swallowed  up  in  depths  unfathomable. 
And  before  you  shall  be  ihe  life  of  everlasting  ages,  in 
which  to  learn  how  much  God  has  done  for  his  own 
glory  and  his  creature's  good. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  the  splendors  of  that 
mighty  habitation,  whose  apartments  are  suns  and 
systems  of  worlds,  exalted  upon  the  central  throne  in 
some  great  capital  of  universal  empire,  you  shall  see 

One  like  unto  the  Son  of  man.    And  when  you  behold 
D 


50  GOD'S  GLORY  IN  THE  HEAVENS. 

his  face,  and  you  see  upon  his  hands  the  scars  of  the 
conflict  through  which  he  passed  in  this  world,  that  he 
might  bring  you  to  that  high  and  holy  habitation,  you 
will  understand  better  than  you  do  now  how  much  the 
Infinite  God  loved  the  lost  race  of  man,  in  giving  his 
divine  Son  to  the  shame  and  agony  of  the  cross,  that 
he  might  bring  many  sons  to  the  glory  and  blessed- 
ness of  heaven.  You  will  understand  better  than  you 
do  now  that  it  is  infinite  gain  to  win  Christ  at  what- 
ever cost,  but  that  it  is  infinite  loss  to  win  the  world 
and  lose  the  souL 


(iofcs  Mlffttto  in  % 


These  see  fits  wonders  in  the  deep. — 


II. 

GOD'S   WONDERS   IN   THE   DEEP. 

(  ^j|  HE  books  of  the  Bible  were  not  written  among 
c;VJ|    a    seafaring   people,  and   yet   they  abound   in 

fqj  beautiful  'and   expressive  allusions   to  the  sea. 
<T\ 

The  blue  waves  of  the  Mediterranean  could  be 
seen  by  shepherds  and  vintagers  from  all  the  high 
places  of  Palestine.  They  could  see  the  sun  go  down 
at  the  close  of  the  day  and  set  the  plain  of  waters 
ablaze  with  his  parting  glory.  They  could  watch  the 
gathering  darkness  of  the  storm  as  it  came  out  of  the 
west,  at  first  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand,  and  soon 
blackening  the  whole  heavens  with  clouds.  They 
could  rest  secure  in  their  distant  homes,  while  the 
tempest  ploughed  the  sea  into  foam  along  its  path,  and 
rushed  upon  the  rocky  face  of  Carmel  and  the  wooded 
heights  of  Lebanon  with  the  howl  of  fighting  winds 
and  the  peal  of  rattling  thunders.  And  yet  few  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  land  had  ever  exchanged  the 
sheepwalks  of  the  wilderness  for  the  unsteady  paths 
of  the  sea.  The  distant  prospect  lent  the  charm  of 
mystery  to  the  world  of  waters,  and  so  led  psalmists 
and  prophets  the  more  frequently  to  clothe  the  divine 
message  with  the  sublime  drapery  of  the  deep. 

53 


54  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

In  their  inspired  compositions  the  most  striking 
spiritual  truths  are  set  forth  in  language  drawn  from 
the  signs  and  aspects  of  the  sea.  The  greatest  earthly 
blessings  are  blessings  of  the  deep.  The  mightiest 
voice  is  that  which  drieth  up  the  deep  and  stilleth  the 
noise  of  the  waves.  The  most  awful  affliction  is  that 
which  the  sufferer  describes  by  saying  that  wave 
follows  wave  and  deep  calleth  unto  deep,  and  all  the 
billows  of  calamity  have  gone  over  his  soul.  It  is  the 
most  joyful  deliverance  to  the  oppressed  when  Jehovah 
rideth  upon  horses  and  chariots  of  salvation  through 
the  sea.  The  greatest  dominion  is  that  which  extends 
from  sea  to  sea.  The  most  distant  flight  of  the  beams 
of  the  morning  is  unto  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
sea.  The  grandest  triumph  of  the  latter  day  shall  be 
the  conversion  of  the  abundance  of  the  sea.  The 
crowning  ascription  of  power  and  glory  unto  the  Lamb 
of  God  shall  come  up,  like  the  sound  of  many  waters, 
from  every  creature  in  the  sea. 

The  progress  of  knowledge  in  later  times  only  leads 
us  to  wonder  at  the  propriety  and  expressiveness  of 
language  used  by  writers  who  had  never  seen  the 
ocean,  and  whose  knowledge  of  the  sea  was  confined  to 
observations  from  the  shore.  We  have  learned  to  call 
the  ocean  the  "  image  of  eternity"  and  the  "  throne  of 
the  Invisible."  We  permit  the  poet  to  say  that  it  is 
"boundless,  endless  and  sublime."  And  yet  our  more 
ambitious  modes  of  speech  in  modern  times  can  add 
little  to  what  was  so  well  expressed  of  old  by  dwellers 


GOD'S   WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  55 

among  the  hills  and  by  wanderers  in  the  desert.  To 
us,  as  veil  as  to  them,  the  sea  is  full  of  wonders,  It 
is  terrible  in  wrath;  it  is  awful  in  beauty;  it  is  bur- 
nished like  the  body  of  heaven  in  its  brightness.  It 
has  all  the  moods  of  sensitive  genius,  and  all  the 
majesty  of  sovereign  power.  It  fascinates  and  it 
repels.  It  delights  and  it  terrifies.  It  scatters  smiles 
like  thw  raindrops  falling  in  the  sunshine,  and  it 
darkens  the  heavens  with  the  frowns  of  its  wrath.  It 
allures  1*3  to  its  mighty  arms  with  the  arts  and  caresses 
of  a  gentle  mother,  and  then,  when  we  trust  ourselves 
to  its  heaving  bosom,  it  tosses  us  up  and  down,  day 
and  night,  with  wild  and  boisterous  vehemence,  till  we 
are  weary  of  life.  When  lashed  into  fury  by  the 
merciless  winds,  it  tears  the  strong  ship  in  pieces  as 
the  lion  tears  the  lamb.  In  its  paroxysms  of  rage  and 
madnesy  it  lifts  up  its  cruel  hands  and  hurls  the 
mariner  to  a  watery  grave,  without  heeding  his  drown- 
ing cry.  It  plunders  the  white- winged  heralds  of 
commerce  in  their  passage  across  its  plains,  and  then 
it  casts  both  the  passenger  and  the  prey  in  contempt 
on  the  shore.  When  the  hour  of  its  wild  passion  is 
past,  it  moans  with  melancholy  voice  along  a  11  its  deso- 
late shores,  as  if  sorrowing  over  the  destruction  which 
its  wrath  has  made. 

The  progress  of  knowledge  in  modern  times  has  only 
multiplied  the  wonders  of  the  sea  and  added  beauty 
and  attractiveness  to  the  veil  of  its  mystery.  Every 
day  we  are  surrounded  by  the  power  of  the  sea;  we 


56  GOD'S   WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

are  supported  by  the  abundance  of  the  sea;  we  are 
using  figurative  language  suggested  by  the  changing 
signs  and  aspects  of  the  sea.  It  will  be  a  sacred  and 
profitable  lesson  for  us  to  walk  upon  the  sounding- 
shore,  and  gather  up  here  and  there  a  shining  pearl  or 
a  beautiful  shell,  which  the  great  deep  has  thrown  out 
from  its  treasure-house  of  wonders  and  mysteries. 

The  prophet  of  Israel  declared  that  in  the  golden 
and  glorious  age  of  the  future  Zion  shall  be  enriched 
with  the  abundance  of  the  sea.  Nevertheless,  the 
ancient  poets  among  the  Greeks  sang  of  the  "  barren 
sea ;"  and  traditional  usage  in  our  more  practical  and 
economic  age  speaks  of  the  "waste  of  waters."  The 
most  advanced  science  of  our  times  proves  that  the 
prophet  was  right  and  both  the  poets  and  economists 
wrong.  The  sea  is  not  barren,  neither  is  the  world  of 
waters  a  waste.  It  is  the  deep  alone  which  prevents 
the  earth  from  becoming  a  desert.  The  forests  on  the 
mountains,  the  grass  on  the  plains  and  the  cattle  upon 
a  thousand  hills,  all  derive  their  life  and  daily  sub- 
sistence from  the  sea.  Three-fourths  of  the  entire 
surface  of  the  globe  are  covered  with  water,  to  be  an 
exhaustless  treasury  of  life  and  health  and  riches  to 
everything  that  lives  and  grows  on  the  remaining 
fourth  of  dry  land. 

Astronomy  shows  us  the  moon  to  tell  us  what 
kind  of  a  world  we  should  have  without  an  ocean. 
Calling  to  our  aid  the  mighty  telescope,  we  survey  the 
"  pale  empress  of  the  starry  night/'  and  we  see  high 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  57 

and  jagged  mountains  shooting  up  into  splintered  and 
volcanic  peaks,  with  fragments  of  shattered  crags  lying 
at  their  base.  We  look  down  into  dark,  empty  hol- 
lows with  perpendicular  walls  ten  thousand  feet  high. 
We  measure  long  reaches  of  narrow  defiles  and  water- 
less valleys,  as  rugged  as  the  blasted  and  thunder- 
smitten  heights  with  which  they  are  surrounded.  We 
peer  into  extinct  craters  from  which  the  fires  of  vol- 
canic rage  have  ceased  to  burn,  leaving  the  whole 
region  covered  with  the  ashes  of  desolation.  Seen 
through  the  great  telescope,  the  full  moon  has  the 
appearance  of  a  torn  and  blasted  world,  a  doomed 
satellite,  suffocated  by  the  sulphurous  breath  of  its  own 
self-torturing  volcanoes ;  manless,  treeless,  lifeless — a 
stony  chaos  of  death — a  caverned  and  abysmal  realm 
of  the  most  complete  and  terrible  desolation. 

If  it  were  not  for  the  deep  the  earth  would  become 
like  the  moon — a  wilderness  of  death,  a  chaos  of  cold 
mountains  and  jagged  rocks  and  blackened  cinders 
and  barren  sands,  without  a  bird  to  sing  in  its  solitudes 
or  a  flower  to  relieve  its  desolation.  The  sun  lifts  the 
waters  of  the  sea  into  the  air,  the  winds  waft  the  bur- 
den over  all  the  land,  the  clouds  form  and  the  rain 
falls,  and  so  vegetation  is  kept  alive  and  food  is  sup- 
plied for  every  living  thing.  The  giant  cedar  which 
wrestles  with  the  storms  of  a  thousand  years,  and  the 
delicate  flower  that  blooms  and  dies  in  a  day ;  the 
monarch  of  the  forest  that  spreads  dismay  with  his 
midnight  roar,  and  the  timorous  dove  that  flies  to  the 


58  GOD'S   WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

habitation  of  man  to  escape  the  bird  of  prey;  the 
leviathan  whose  floating  form  seems  like  some  small 
island  on  the  surface  of  the  deep,  and  the  animalcules 
that  sport  by  millions  in  the  drop  of  water, — all  derive 
their  life  and  their  support  from  the  sea. 

The  sea  is  the  source  of  the  rivers — not  the  rivers  of 
the  sea.  The  Psalmist  is  right  when  he  says  that  the 
waters  go  up  by  the  mountains,  although  we  say  that  all 
streams  run  into  the  sea.  They  must  first  go  up  to  the 
high  places  of  the  hills  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  or 
they  would  never  come  back  singing  on  their  way  to 
their  home  in  the  deep.  The  sun  lays  up  exhaustless 
treasures  of  water  in  the  air  against  the  day  of  drought 
and  famine.  All  the  machinery  of  man,  pumping  and 
groaning  night  and  day  through  all  the  year,  could 
not  carry  as  much  water  to  the  fountains  and  spring- 
heads among  the  hills  as  the  sun  and  the  air  carry  in 
the  silent  hour  of  a  summer's  noon. 

We  live  and  breathe  every  day  beneath  an  invisible 
ocean,  which  would  deluge  the  earth  and  destroy  all 
the  habitations  of  men  in  a  moment  if  it  should  fall 
upon  us.  All  the  water  in  the  rivers  comes  from  the 
air,  and  all  the  water  in  the  air  comes  from  the  sea. 
So  that  we  are  indebted  to  the  sea  for  all  the  riches 
that  the  rain  and  the  rivers  supply.  The  blessing  of 
the  deep  is  above  us  and  around  us  every  moment.  It 
falls  from  the  sky  in  every  shower  of  rain.  It  springs 
up  from  the  earth  in  every  blade  of  grass.  It  breathes 
forth  upon  the  air  in  the  fragrance  of  every  flower. 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  59 

It  calls  for  gratitude  to  our  heavenly  Father  in  every 
gift  of  daily  bread.  It  comes  in  at  our  open  window 
in  the  freshness  of  the  morning  air.  It  builds  a  gal- 
lery of  beauty  for  all  eyes  to  behold  in  the  blue  sky 
and  the  gorgeous  clouds  and  the  green  earth.  It 
waves  in  the  golden  harvest;  it  murmurs  in  the  solemn 
woods;  it  sings  in  the  joyous  brooks;  it  whispers  in  the 
rustling  leaves;  it  distills  in  the  silent  dews;  it  rushes 
and  roars  in  the  great  rain ;  it  comes  forth  in  gladness 
upon  the  wings  of  the  morning ;  it  shines  in  every  hue 
of  the  showery  arch ;  it  surrounds  us  with  goodness 
and  mercy  all  our  days. 

The  ocean  must  have  great  riches,  or  it  could  not 
support  its  own  inhabitants ;  and  yet  it  has  a  super- 
abundance for  the  supply  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
dry  land.  A  thimbleful  of  sea  water  will  often  con- 
tain a  living  population  equal  in  number  to  all  the 
human  beings  that  have  lived  upon  the  face  of  all  the 
earth  since  the  creation  of  Adam.  If  we  should  take 
only  one  of  each  species  of  animals  living  in  the  sea, 
the  collection  would  equal  the  numbers  of  an  exceed- 
ing great  army.  The  armies  of  the  deep  march  in 
their  migrations  millions  abreast.  The  mighty  proces- 
sion, moving  at  a  rapid  rate,  will  continue  to  pass  the 
same  point  and  in  the  same  direction  for  more  than 
sixty  days  and  nights  without  interruption.  If  one 
should  stand  to  number  the  migratory  army  as  it 
passes,  he  would  have  to  count  a  million  a  minute,  and 
to  keep  counting  uninterruptedly  from  April  to  July. 


60  GOD'S   WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

All  the  swarming  millions  of  the  deep  feed  upon  its 
own  resources,  and  it  is  only  the  superabundance  of 
its  bounty  that  supports  the  lesser  millions  of  the 
living  on  the  land.  The  eager  pursuit  of  the  hunter 
and  the  advancing  march  of  civilization  may  drive  the 
deer  from  the  forests  and  the  bison  from  the  prairies ; 
the  primitive  oaks  may  fall  before  the  woodman's  axe ; 
the  virgin  gold  may  be  gathered  from  all  the  river- 
beds among  the  mountains.  But  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth  cannot  exhaust  the  abundance  of  the  seas.  The 
Infinite  Creator  has  filled  the  deep  with  countless 
myriads  of  living  creatures,  not  only  because  he  would 
provide  an  exhaustless  storehouse  of  food  for  man,  but 
because  he  delights  in  the  multiplication  of  all  forms 
of  life ;  he  rejoices  in  giving  the  capacity  and  the 
means  of  enjoyment  to  the  lowest  as  well  as  to  the 
loftiest  of  all  his  creatures.  The  great  Master  of  life 
builds  the  steps  of  being  slowly  upward,  from  the 
slimy  creature  whose  body  evaporates  like  dew  in  the 
sun,  to  the  immortal  mind  of  man  and  the  mightier 
powers  of  the  archangel  that  bows  and  burns  before 
the  throne  in  heaven.  All  this  boundless  living  crea- 
tion depends  on  him  for  support,  and  he  fills  all  with 
food  and  gladness. 

The  deep  affords  a  grand  field  for  the  display  of  the 
divine  power.  Apparently,  nothing  is  more  unstable 
than  the  waters.  In  popular  language,  the  sea  is  the 
symbol  of  restlessness,  of  perpetual  change  and  aimless 
conflict.  Men  who  waste  their  lives  in  vain  struggles 


GOD'S   WONDEKS  IN  THE  DEEP.  61 

after  happiness  are  compared  to  the  troubled  sea  when 
it  cannot  rest.  The  voice  of  the  sea  is  as  the  voice  of 
a  chained  giant,  lashed  into  madness  by  the  unresting 
winds  and  bound  to  the  cold  rock.  All  the  elements 
of  strife  find  their  home  on  the  deep,  and  when  one 
has  exhausted  its  fury,  another  takes  up  the  scourge 
and  summons  the  groaning  giant  to  torture.  And  the 
change  and  conflict  through  which  the  deep  passes  in 
all  its  varied  aspects  of  light  and  darkness,  breeze  and 
gale  and  storm,  consist  only  in  an  ever-involved  and 
aimless  repetition  of  the  same  forms,  a  ceaseless  surging 
to  and  fro,  without  permanent  advance  or  retreat.  The 
weed  or  floating  wreck  is  indeed  borne  onward  to  far- 
distant  shores.  But  the  sea  itself  abides  as  if  chained 
in  its  secret  caves,  groaning  beneath  the  lash  of  the 
merciless  winds,  and  tossing  its  strong  hands  on  high 
in  the  convulsions  of  a  restless  and  perpetual  agony. 

Thus  the^very  restlessness  of  the  deep  impresses  us 
the  more  with  the  greatness  and  with  the  steady  grasp 
of  the  power  which  keeps  it  unchanged  from  age  to 
age.  In  fact,  we  find  the  most  expressive  symbol  of 
immutability  in  the  stars  and  the  sea.  The  Psalmist 
was  right  when  he  said  that  God  has  founded  the  solid 
earth  upon  the  seas  and  established  it  upon  the  floods. 
Philosophers  have  at  last  found  that  there  is  more 
truth  in  David's  inspired  words  than  he  himself  could 
have  known.  The  stability  of  the  ocean  is  a  perpetual 
miracle  of  divine  power.  It  can  be  kept  within  its 
appointed  bounds  only  by  Him  who  is  able  to  hold  its 


62  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  The  display  of 
power  in  keeping  the  sea  in  place  is  so  great,  so  con- 
stant, so  wonderful,  that  the  solid  earth  needs  no  other 
foundation.  The  great  globe  itself  must  obey  the 
voice,  which  says  to  the  deep,  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou 
come  and  no  farther,  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves 
be  stayed." 

The  storm  ploughs  the  sea  with  terrible  fury.  The 
shores  are  often  almost  upon  a  level  with  the  waters. 
The  tidal  wave  travels  on  the  ocean  as  fast  as  the 
moon  moves  in  heaven.  The  earth  whirls  on  its  axis 
forty  times  faster  than  the  swift  train  flies  upon  the 
iron  track.  If  there  should  be  a  momentary  jar  or  stop- 
page, or  derangement  in  any  of  these  great  movements 
and  forces,  the  sea  would  rush  upon  the  land  and  the 
mountains  would  be  covered  with  another  deluge. 
Fill  a  shallow  basin  with  water  to  the  brim,  and  then 
try  to  carry  it  swiftly  in  your  hand  without  allowing 
a  drop  to  run  over,  and  then  consider  what  power, 
what  attention,  what  perfect  balancing  of  forces  must 
be  requisite  to  carry  all  the  oceans  of  the  earth  in  their 
shallow  beds  through  space  a  thousand  times  faster 
than  the  eagle  flies,  and  yet  not  let  the  water  run  over 
upon  the  land.  Such  a  wonder  of  power  is  God  dis- 
playing every  moment  in  keeping  the  deep  within 
bounds. 

And  this  balancing  of  forces,  which  binds  the  sea 
in  its  bed  and  marks  its  place  and  form  as  sure  as  the 
solid  earth,  extends  through  the  universe  of  worlds, 


GOD'S  WOXDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  63 

and  runs  through  unmeasured,  uncounted  cycles  of 
years.  When,  therefore,  we  say  that  the  earth  is 
founded  upon  the  seas  and  established  upon  the  floods, 
we  declare  that  the  earth  is  kept  in  its  place  by  the 
wonder  of  Divine  power  which  gives  stability  to  the 
ocean,  holds  the  stars  in  the  firmament  and  controls 
every  particle  of  matter  in  the  universe. 

To  the  inexperienced  voyager  nothing  seems  more 
capricious  and  utterly  without  law  and  order  than  the 
winds  and  the  waves.  To  him  the  ocean  seems  the 
home  of  the  most  anarchical  and  ungovernable  power. 
There  he  is,  plunging  and  ploughing  his  way  over  the 
level  and  limitless  expanse  of  the  waters.  There  is 
nothing  to  be  seen  but  the  blue  dome  of  the  sky  above 
and  the  blue  plain  of  the  sea  beneath.  No  situation 
in  the  world  is  better  fitted  to  produce  the  feeling  of 
utter  loneliness  and  desolation.  To  be  sure,  the  ship 
itself  may  be  full  of  life  and  motion  and  power.  The 
number  of  human  beings  on  board  may  be  large 
enough  to  make  it  seem  as  if  home  and  society  and  the 
common  relations  of  human  kind  were  all  there.  But 
when  the  voyager  looks  away  from  his  floating  habita- 
tion, above,  below,  around,  and  asks,  "  Where  am  I  ? 
and  whither  am  I  going  ?  and  what  has  become  of  the 
great  world  of  business  and  life  and  thought  which  so 
lately  surrounded  me  ?"  then  he  begins  to  think  how 
Lonely  a  thing  is  a  solitary  ship  upon  the  boundless 
desert  of  the  sea.  The  sky  above  and  the  waters  be- 
neath present  the  same  aspect  for  successive  days. 


64  GOD'S   WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

There  is  no  landmark,  no  fixed  object  in  sight  to  tell 
him  that  he  is  making  progress  in  any  direction  or 
that  he  will  ever  gain  a  safe  harbor.  He  does  not 
need  to  be  a  very  sensitive  man  to  ask,  "Whence  shall 
we  derive  the  prophet's  vision,  the  superhuman  science 
with  which  to  find  the  connecting  chain  binding  us  still 
to  life  and  humanity  amid  the  world  of  waters?  Who 
can  tell  us  that  we  are  not  already  lost  upon  this  heav- 
ing plain  of  unvarying  and  infinite  desolation  ?  Who 
can  say  that  green  fields  and  happy  homes  are  not 
already  for  ever  beyond  our  reach,  and  that  we  are  not 
doomed  to  wander  round  and  round  in  never-ending 
circles,  till  we  all  perish  together  on  this  immeasurable 
and  melancholy  desert  of  the  sea  ?" 

All  such  questions  are  answered  for  the  inexperi- 
enced voyager  when  the  officer  of  the  deck  takes  his 
instrument  at  noonday  and  directs  his  eye  away,  a 
hundred  million  of  miles  to  the  sun,  and  brings  down 
from  that  great  globe  of  fire  the  secret  which  the  earth 
and  sea  cannot  reveal.  The  skillful  navigator  is  con- 
fident that  he  can  tell,  within  the  fraction  of  a  mile, 
his  precise  position  on  the  ocean,  with  nothing  but 
the  record  of  his  rate  of  sailing  and  the  observed 
position  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens  to  help  him  in  his 
calculations. 

With  what  perfect  order  and  constancy  must  the 
one  Infinite  mind  maintain  the  whole  course  of  nature, 
when  so  slight  a  thing  as  the  determination  of  the 
ship's  place  on  the  pathless  sea  may  depend  upon 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  65 

regularity  with  which  a  globe  a  million  times  larger 
than  the  earth  shall  keep  its  course  in  the  heavens  ? 
How  constantly  and  accurately  the  greatest  objects 
and  forces  in  nature  are  made  to  render  the  least  and 
commonest  services  to  man!  And  shall  we  hesitate 
to  obey  a  Being  whose  will  is  the  source  of  all  power, 
whose  law  is  the  harmony  of  the  universe,  and  whose 
delight  is  in  the  happiness  of  his  creatures  ?  Shall  we 
fear  to  trust  ourselves  to  the  protection  of  Him  who 
is  ever  ready  to  receive  us  under  the  shadow  of  his 
throne,  and  whose  presence  shall  be  with  us  in  the 
uttermost  parts  of  creation  ? 

I  remember,  one  day,  as  I  stood  leaning  over  the 
bulwarks,  searching,  with  bewildered  and  aching  eye, 
for  some  object  to  diversify  the  dreary  waste  of  waters, 
I  saw  a  small  land-bird  flying  after  the  ship.  For 
some  time  the  little  creatrue  beat  up  and  down,  as  if 
weary  and  lost,  not  daring  to  come  on  board,  and  yet 
not  able,  like  the  sea-gull,  to  rest  on  the  wing  or  fioat 
on  the  water.  At  length,  as  if  emboldened  by  despair, 
it  alighted  on  deck,  passed  around  among  the  people, 
and  eagerly  picked  up  the  crumbs  that  had  been 
dropped  from  our  overloaded  table.  Was  it  a  part  of 
the  plan  of  the  infinite  Father,  without  whom  not  a 
sparrow  falls  to  the  ground,  that  our  great  ship,  with 
its  wasteful  superabundance  of  food,  should  pass  that 
way  over  the  waste  of  waters  just  at  that  particular 
hour,  to  give  rest  and  food  to  that  poor,  lost  and  weary 

wanderer  from  the  land  ?     Or  is  it  more  befitting  the 
E 


66  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

comparative  importance  of  things  to  say  that  the  little 
bird  was  directed  to  the  path  of  the  ship  by  that 
eternal  Providence  to  which  nothing  can  be  too  mi- 
nute to  receive  attention,  nothing  too  difficult  to 
accomplish  ?  Or  shall  the  philosopher  tell  me  that 
such  things  are  all  determined  by  immutable  and 
impersonal  law,  and  that  only  the  weakness  of  human 
hopes  can  refer  them  to  the  desires  and  purposes  of  a 
free,  intelligent,  all-ruling  mind  ?  Or,  will  the  skeptic 
take  comfort  to  his  cold  heart,  by  saying,  that  chance 
rules  all,  and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  mind,  purpose 
or  feeling  governing  the  universe  and  deciding  the 
destiny  of  every  creature  ? 

I  leave  the  mysteries  of  faith  and  the  abstraction^ 
of  philosophy  to  those  who  can  solve  them  best ;  but  I 
was  willing  to  believe  that  one  reason  why  the  Infinite 
Father  had  directed  that  little  bird  to  seek  a  shelter 
on  our  ship,  was  to  remind  me  that  I  was  not  yet  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  Hand  which  feeds  a  sparrow, 
measures  the  deep  and  holds  the  worlds  in  the  firma- 
ment of  heaven.  I  was  glad  to  learn  a  new  lesson  in 
the  theology  of  faith  and  trust  from  that  little  creature, 
for  the  relief  of  whose  hunger  God  had  sent  out  the 
mighty  ship  into  mid-ocean.  And  when  night  came 
on,  and  darkness  covered  the  sea,  and  the  storm  lashed 
the  deep  with  its  black  wings,  as  I  watched  alone  upon 
the  plunging  and  wave-swept  deck,  and  myself  and 
the  great  ship  seemed  but  a  mote  which  the  merciless 
waters  might  swallow  up  in  a  moment,  and  leave  nof  * 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  67 

trace  of  our  burial,  then  I  could  say  with  new  assur- 
ance, "The  Being  who  takes  pleasure  in  preserving  and 
beautifying  a  bird  or  a  blossom  will  not  forget  me." 

While  at  home,  with  all  the  occupations  of  daily 
life  and  all  the  diversions  of  society  to  engage  our 
attention,  we  talk  of  subduing  the  elements  and  of 
passing  the  ocean  as  if  it  were  a  holiday  swing  from 
continent  to  continent.  The  enthusiastic  traveler,  who 
is  about  to  have  his  first  experience  on  the  world  of 
waters,  examines  the  strong  ship  while  it  lies  motion- 
less at  the  wharf.  The  deck  seems  as  firm  beneath  his 
foot  as  the  stone  pavement  of  the  street.  The  stern 
and  prow  and  sides,  braced  with  beams  of  oak  and 
bars  of  iron,  seem  like  an  impenetrable  shield  against 
all  the  assaults  of  the  winds  and  waves.  The  mighty 
engine,  with  its  tireless  arms  and  fiery  heart,  is  pre- 
pared to  blow  the  breath  of  defiance  in  the  face  of  the 
wildest  storm.  The  whole  structure  is  a  loud  procla- 
mation of  man's  triumph  over  the  elements  of  nature. 

With  such  impressions  the  voyager  embarks,  full 
of  hope  and  buoyant  expectation,  scarcely  thinking 
that  the  occasion  calls  for  an  especial  committal  of 
himself  to  Him  who  holds  the  deep  in  the  hollow  of 
his  hand.  The  strong  ship  strikes  out  upon  its  chosen 
path  across  the  deep.  The  booming  cannon  thunders 
the  loud  farewell,  and  the  happy  voyager  can  no  longer 
hear  the  voices  of  friends  invoking  blessings  on  his 
departure.  The  harbor  is  cleared,  and  the  high  places 
of  the  shore  gradually  go  down  behind  the  encompass- 


68  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

ing  circle  of  waters.  The  winds  blow  softly  as  the 
breath  of  a  summer's  eve,  and  the  waves  of  the  deep 
are  only  as  dimples  on  the  face  of  beauty,  increasing  its 
charm  by  giving  diversity  and  expression  to  every 
feature. 

The  quiet  aspect  of  everything  around  him,  and  the 
easy,  home-like,  social  life  going  on  within  the  ship, 
make  the  impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  inexpe- 
rienced voyager  that  going  to  sea  is  a  very  common- 
place affair.  It  seems  to  him  that  he  cannot  be  very 
far  from  shore,  and  that  he  shall  see  the  land  in  one 
direction  or  another  as  he  gazes  over  the  level  plain  of 
the  water.  The  wild  sea-birds  keep  him  company, 
flapping  idly  to  and  fro  with  their  tireless  wings,  as  if 
they  had  no  fear  of  going  too  far  from  a  place  of  rest. 
The  sea-monsters  plunge  and  sport  in  the  distance  as 
if  enjoying  the  sunshine  and  the  calm  weather.  The 
clouds  of  evening  wear  the  same  soft  hue  which,  on 
shore,  promise  a  fair  morning  and  a  beautiful  day. 
When  night  veils  the  sea  the  starry  hosts  take  up  their 
orderly  march  upon  the  fields  of  light,  and  the  dim 
horizon  seems  as  fixed  and  stable  as  the  wooded  vales 
and  the  everlasting  hills. 

While  this  state  of  things  lasts  the  inexperienced 
voyager  thinks  it  cannot  be  a  very  serious  matter  to 
traverse  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  hundreds  of 
miles  away  from  friends,  home  and  country,  with 
nothing  but  a  flooring  of  plank  between  him  and  the 
unfathomable  abyss.  He  wonders  what  can  be  the 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.         69 

meaning  of  the  terrible  descriptions  of  the  ocean's 
greatness  and  power  with  which  his  youthful  imagi- 
nation has  been  filled.  He  is  afraid  that  the  lofty  lan- 
guage with  which  the  sacred  Scriptures  speak  of  the 
great  deep  must  be  ascribed,  in  part,  to  the  imagination 
of  a  people  who  had  never  lost  sight  of  the  hills  an 
plains  of  their  native  country. 

But  the  time  comes,  sooner  or  later,  for  the  voice  of 
the  Lord  to  speak  in  power  and  majesty  upon  the  many 
waters,  and  to  disturb  the  pleasant  dream  of  passing 
the  ocean  as  a  holiday  excursion.  The  deep  will  not 
fail  to  show  the  weakness  and  the  insignificance  of 
every  structure  on  which  man  presumes  to  invade  its 
proud  domain.  The  strong-built  ship,  the  best  of  a 
thousand  to  face  the  head  wind  and  outride  the  storm, 
trembles  in  every  fibre  as  it  struggles  against  the  shock 
of  the  billows  that  come  on  like  battalions  of  cavalry  in 
perpetual  charge.  The  deep,  like  some  wild  war-horse 
maddened  by  spur  and  bit  and  impatient  to  throw  his 
rider,  rears  and  plunges  and  flings  the  ship  from  ridge 
to  ridge,  as  if  determined  to  shake  it  off  and  trample  it 
down. 

I  remember  one  dark  and  tempestuous  night,  when 
myself  traversing  the  paths  of  the  deep,  there  came  a 
blow  upon  the  right  side  of  the  ship  so  sudden  and 
stunning  that  it  seemed  as  if  every  timber  had  been 
shivered  and  displaced  from  its  fastenings.  Imme- 
diately after  the  shock  the  vessel  seemed  for  some  mo- 
ments to  stand  paralyzed  and  motionless.  The  engine 


70  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

could  not  be  heard.  The  timbers  ceased  to  strain  and 
creak.  There  was  no  roll  nor  plunge  nor  sound.  In 
those  moments  of  awful  suspense  many  passengers  held 
their  breath  as  if  seized  with  the  same  paralysis  that 
had  smitten  the  vessel.  Many  hearts  revolved  the 
fearful  question,  "  Is  this  the  silence  and  the  calm  of 
sinking  in  the  depths  of  the  sea,  far  below  the  region 
of  waves  and  storms?  Has  the  unconquerable  deep 
risen  up  in  the  greatness  of  its  wrath  and  power,  and 
by  one  mighty  blow  that  needs  no  second  stroke  smit- 
ten the  fiery  heart  of  the  ship  with  death  ?  Is  that  the 
rush  of  the  waters  down  the  hatches  and  along  the  cor- 
ridors ?  And  is  this  the  last  moment  for  prayer  unto 
Him  at  whose  voice  the  sea  shall  give  up  its  dead? 
And  shall  the  loved  ones  of  home  have  no  other  tale  to 
tell  of  all  on  board  than  that  we  sailed  from  port  with 
bright  hopes  and  happy  adieux  and  were  never  heard 
of  more?" 

Surely  it  was  a  time  to  feel,  in  the  darkness,  for  that 
Hand  which  holds  the  sea  in  its  grasp,  and  leads  the 
little  child  with  a  father's  care.  It  was  a  time  to  learn 
how  much  it  is  worth  to  believe  that  God  is  with  us  in 
every  place,  and  that  he  will  keep  our  hearts  at  perfect 
peace  while  stayed  on  him.  It  was  a  time  for  the 
Christian  voyager  to  break  forth  in  the  lofty  hymn  of 
faith :  "  Let  the  storm  howl,  and  the  deep  lift  up  its 
voice  on  high.  Let  the  laboring  vessel  be  flung  like 
a  leaf  from  billow  to  billow ;  still  the  Hand  that  sustains 
me  is  almighty.  The  Master  whom  I  serve  can  walk 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.         71 

upon  the  waves,  and  lay  his  commands  upon  the  ele- 
ments and  they  shall  obey  him.  From  the  lowest 
depths  his  hand  can  lift  me  up.  In  the  deepest  dark- 
ness his  eye  of  love  can  find  me.  And  he  would  sooner 
break  up  the  foundations  of  the  earth  and  make  dry 
land  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  than  suffer  one  soul  that 
trusts  in  him  to  perish." 

The  sea  is  a  stern  master,  and  it  teaches  the  great 
lesson  of  trust,  and  it  awakens  a  longing  for  rest  by  the 
stern  discipline  of  suffering.  There  is  a  mysterious 
and  incurable  malady  which  does  this  for  the  inexperi- 
enced voyager  more  effectually  than  the  vastness  of  the 
sea  and  the  might  of  the  fetterless  storms.  That 
strange  and  inexplicable  plague  shows  the  wisest  and 
the  strongest  what  a  feeble  and  dependent  creature  is 
man,  even  when  he  has  all  his  arts  and  inventions  to 
help  him — how  completely  he  is  held  in  subjection  to 
forces  that  he  cannot  control  and  to  laws  that  he  can- 
not understand. 

No  actual  disease  breaks  out  among  the  passengers. 
No  poisonous  blast  has  swept  over  the  sea  and  cor- 
rupted the  fountains  of  life.  And  yet  what  a  change 
befalls  the  once  hopeful  and  happy  group!  Pale, 
haggard  and  tottering,  they  creep  up  the  stairway  and 
stagger  to  the  nearest  seat  on  the  heaving  deck.  Their 
soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble.  They  reel  to  and 
fro  like  drunken  men,  and  are  at  their  wits'  end.  They 
seem  like  the  shadows  of  what  they  were  when  they 
first  came  on  board :  unutterable  wretchedness  is  written 


72  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

in  every  feature.  They  gasp  for  breath  in  the  face  of 
the  freshly-blowing  wind.  A  strange  recklessness  seizes 
upon  the  weak  and  the  strong,  and  binds  them  in  fet- 
ters of  the  most  bitter  and  intolerable  bondage.  Every 
organ  and  function  of  the  living  frame  seems  to  con- 
spire against  Nature  to  make  life  a  burden  to  the  suf- 
ferer. Not  only  does  his  soul  loathe  all  manner  of 
meat.  He  loathes  everything  about  him — loathes  him- 
self, and  is  tempted  to  choose  death  rather  than  life. 
Everything  that  is  done  to  cheer  his  heart  seems  an 
ingenious  device  to  increase  his  misery.  The  sweet 
memories  of  home  lose  their  charm.  The  fond  antici- 
pations of  the  future  are  clothed  with  gloom.  All  the 
sweet  uses  of  hope,  love,  kindness  seem  to  have  been 
reversed,  as  well  as  the  functions  of  the  body,  and  they 
all  conspire  to  people  his  imagination  with  horrors. 
His  sleep  does  not  refresh  him.  He  is  scared  with 
appalling  dreams.  He  starts  up  from  brief  uncon- 
sciousness, panting  with  affright  and  weary  with  imag- 
ined contests  with  the  demons  and  powers  of  darkness. 
Once,  when  myself — with  many  others  on  the  same 
ship — prostrate  under  the  power  of  the  mysterious 
scourge,  I  could  hear  in  the  early  morning  along  the 
corridors  into  which  the  state-rooms  opened,  cries  and 
groans  and  every  expression  of  human  anguish.  Now 
as  of  a  strong  man  struggling  in  his  agony ;  now  as  of 
a  feeble  and  sensitive  woman  wailing  and  sobbing  as 
if  in  the  utmost  pangs  of  suffering  nature.  Sometimes 
the  tones  were  piteous  and  imploring,  as  if  in  prayer ; 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  73 

sometimes  hoarse  and  brutal,  as  if  in  blasphemy ;  some- 
times mingled  with  mockery  and  unmeaning  laughter. 
The  ship  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  transformed  into  one 
great  prison-house,  with  cells  for  torture  extending  in 
double  ranks  from  end  to  end,  and  in  every  cell  a  living 
victim,  over  whom  some  invisible  and  unpitying  tor- 
mentor lifted  the  scourge  continually,  giving  occasional 
respite  for  the  recovery  of  strength,  only  that  the 
wretched  victim  might  be  able  to  bear  additional 
torture. 

And  what  had  we  done  to  bring  that  terrible  malady 
upon  us?  Had  we  drunk  deadly  poison?  Had  we 
inhaled  invisible  miasma?  Had  we  been  exposed  to 
fatal  infection  ?  No.  And  nothing  could  be  done  to 
help  us.  When  we  summoned  up  all  our  remaining 
faculties  to  look  upon  our  condition  in  a  rational  man- 
ner, we  felt  ourselves  unmanned  and  our  spirits  crushed 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  the  one  thing  which  we 
most  desired — rest — was  absolutely  unattainable.  "We 
were  ready  to  say  in  our  despair,  Oh  for  one  hour  of 
rest !  Oh  to  stand,  though  it  be  but  for  a  moment,  upon 
solid  ground !  Oh  to  lie  down  again  for  one  night  upon 
a  bed  that  does  not  heave  and  roll  like  this  restless  sea ! 
Oh  for  the  bare  sight  of  anything  that  stands  still ! 

But  no  power  on  earth  could  grant  us  that  wish.  It 
would  have  been  easier  to  overturn  the  mightiest  king- 
dom in  the  world  than  to  give  our  floating  habitation 
a  stable  position  for  an  hour.  And  the  bare  knowledge 
of  the  fact  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  rest,  even 


74  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

for  so  brief  a  space,  sometimes  seemed  sufficient  to 
drive  the  mind  to  utter  despair  and  madness.  It  was 
while  thus  tossing  upon  the  sea  that  I  saw  a  new  beauty 
and  appropriateness  in  those  words  with  which  the 
Spirit  of  inspiration  describes  the  blessedness  of  the 
better  home :  "  The  people  of  God  do  enter  into  rest/' 
Oh,  how  unspeakably  blessed  to  the  weary  soul,  tossed 
upon  the  sea  of  this  conflicting  and  tempestuous  life, 
to  enter  into  a  state  of  pure,  serene  and  endless  rest ! 
"What  calm  and  trustful  assurance  should  it  give  us, 
amid  all  the  wanderings  and  sorrows  of  earth,  to  look 
forward  to  that  home  where  the  temptations  and  the 
cares  of  the  present  cease  from  troubling  and  the  weary 
are  at  rest !  And  if  the  sea  had  taught  me  no  other 
lesson  by  its  long  and  terrible  chastisement,  I  should 
be  grateful  to  my  merciless  master  for  having  helped 
me  the  better  to  understand  how  great  is  the  blessing 
offered  by  Him  who  says  to  the  weary  and  the  heavy- 
laden,  "  Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

The  deep  is  the  hiding  of  the  power  which  originates 
all  motion  and  performs  all  work  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  The  water  of  the  ocean,  in  running  streams  and 
elastic  steam,  swings  all  the  hammers  and  turns  all  the 
wheels  in  the  world.  Wherever  engines  groan  with 
ceaseless  toil,  wherever  whirling  spindles  twist  the 
slender  thread  or  whizzing  shuttles  shoot  through  the 
growing  web,  wherever  forges  thunder  and  cities  of 
workshops  shake  the  earth  with  toil,  there  the  deep  is 
putting  forth  its  power  and  taking  burdens  from  the 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  75 

shoulders  and  sorrows  from  the  hearts  of  men.  All  the 
inventions  of  our  time  would  come  to  naught,  and  every 
department  of  industry  would  be  paralyzed,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  aid  of  this  wild  giant  that  God  has  tamed 
and  harnessed  and  commanded  to  come  up  to  our  help 
out  of  the  sea.  A  single  one  of  our  rivers  has  greater 
motive-power  than  all  the  horses  on  the  continent,  toil- 
ing day  and  night  through  all  the  year.  The  power 
which  combines  two  elements  in  the  composition  of 
water,  and  which  lies  slumbering  with  all  its  energies 
in  a  single  drop,  is  the  same  which  heaves  the  moun- 
tains above  the  clouds,  and  shakes  a  whole  continent 
with  the  subterranean  thunders  of  the  earthquake. 

Popular  language  says  nothing  is  so  weak  as  water. 
When  one  would  have  anything  forgotten  he  says, "  Let 
it  be  written  in  water."  And  yet  among  all  the  mate- 
rial elements  of  nature  there  is  no  one  so  mighty,  so 
constant,  so  tireless  in  toiling  for  man  as  water.  The 
water  has  written  the  record  of  its  toil  upon  the  strata 
of  all  our  mountains,  upon  the  rounded  face  of  all  our 
hills  and  upon  the  rolling  stones  of  all  our  fields.  This 
serving  giant,  that  the  sea  sends  to  the  help  of  the 
land,  runs  on  errands  like  a  post-boy,  and  grinds  like 
blind  Samson  in  the  darkness  of  the  prison-house. 
It  tunnels  the  mountain  range  for  the  railway  train  to 
pass  through,  and  it  drills  the  head  of  the  finest  needle. 
The  power  of  the  sea  drives  the  plough  on  the  prairie 
and  the  iron  steamship  in  the  face  of  its  own  storms. 
It  works  for  centuries  in  digging  a  channel  for  the 


76  GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP. 

mighty  river  through  the  solid  rock,  and  it  hangs  a 
delicate  bow  of  many  colors  upon  the  mists  of  the  cata- 
ract. The  power  of  the  sea  lifts  reservoirs  of  water 
into  the  air,  sufficient  to  fill  all  the  rivers  of  the  earth 
without  diminishing  its  own  fullness.  It  transports 
mountains  of  ice  from  the  cold  North  to  cool  the  steam- 
ing waves  of  the  South.  It  sends  the  current  of  life 
through  the  finest  tendrils  of  the  vine  and  the  gossamer 
filaments  of  thistle-down,  without  breaking  or  burden- 
ing the  delicate  channel  in  which  it  moves.  It  bedews 
the  surface  of  the  green  leaf  with  drops  so  small  that 
the  eye  cannot  see  them.  It  breaks  through  the  bar- 
riers of  the  eternal  hills  with  a  force  mightier  than  all 
the  engines  in  the  world.  This  agency  of  water,  which 
the  deep  supplies  to  do  our  work,  is  the  spirit  of  motion 
in  all  the  wheels  of  industry ;  it  is  the  ruling  genius  in 
every  branch  of  art;  it  leads  the  van  in  the  great 
march  of  progress  and  civilization  for  the  world. 

The  deep  is  the  workshop  in  which  the  Divine  Archi- 
tect is  still  carrying  on  the  slow  and  secret  process  of 
building  the  world.  The  sands  of  the  deserts  have  all 
been  ground  and  sifted  by  the  sea.  The  marble  of  our 
mantels,  the  stones  of  our  sidewalks,  the  slates  that 
roof  our  houses,  and  the  coarser  rocks  on  which  they 
rest  have  all  been  compounded  and  shaped  and  hard- 
ened in  the  deep.  The  clay  from  which  our  bricks  are 
burnt,  the  layers  of  rock  from  which  our  building 
materials  are  quarried,  the  fruitful  soil  out  of  which  all 
our  timber  grows,  have  all  been  built  up  out  of  the  sea. 


GOD'S  WONDERS  IN  THE  DEEP.  77 

The  deep  has  left  the  record  of  its  former  dominion  on 
the  tops  of  the  high  mountains  as  well  as  in  the  depths 
of  the  green  valleys.  Every  particle  of  sand  in  the  soil 
has  been  ground  from  the  solid  rock  by  the  surging  of 
the  sea.  Every  smooth  stone  in  the  harvest-field  has 
been  rolled  upon  the  floor  of  the  deep.  Every  loose 
boulder  that  lies  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth  has  been 
lifted  up  and  carried  in  the  strong  hand  of  the  sea. 
The  mines  of  coal  and  iron  and  the  secret  veins  of  gold 
and  silver  were  once  stored  in  the  treasures  of  the 
deep.  In  the  process  of  time  they  were  brought  forth 
from  the  hidden  chambers  for  use  to  man  by  the  Divine 
Architect,  the  hiding  of  whose  power  is  still  in  the  sea — 
whose  work  of  building  and  furnishing  the  world  ex- 
tends through  countless  ages.  In  the  silent  chambers 
of  the  deep  still  dwells  and  toils  the  mighty  power 
which  lifted  the  mountains  above  the  clouds,  and  laid 
the  solid  floor  of  islands  and  continents  for  the  forests 
to  grow  upon  and  the  fields  to  bring  forth  their  harvests. 
It  would  be  impossible  to  describe,  or  even  to  name, 
all  of  God's  wonders  in  the  deep.  We  have  dwelt  upon 
two — riches  and  power.  But  these  alone  are  sufficient 
to  give  sacredness  and  solemnity  to  all  our  meditations 
upon  the  deep.  If  we  regard  it  as  the  throne  of  God's 
power  for  the  government  of  the  world,  it  is  not  the 
less  the  storehouse  of  his  bounty  for  the  supply  of  every 
living  thing.  The  sea  encircles  the  earth  with  an 
everlasting  hymn,  proclaiming  in^  gentle  whispers  and 
in  mighty  thunders  that  its  builder  and  maker  is  God. 


78  GOD'S  WONDEES  IN  THE  DEEP. 

It  is  but  a  feeble  type,  a  single  manifestation,  of  t)  t 
beneficence  ever  flowing  forth  from  the  Infinite  Father, 
ever  filling  the  universe  with  blessing,  ever  calling  for 
ceaseless  gratitude  and  praise. 

If  the  power  of  the  sea  were  let  loose  upon  the  land, 
it  would  sweep  every  human  being  from  the  face  of  the 
earth,  and  yet  that  power  is  kept  in  check  with  infinite 
ease  by  Him  who  holds  the  stars  in  his  right  hand. 
Let  us  rejoice  that  there  is  One  who  can  rule  the 
raging  of  the  seas  with  his  voice,  and  make  the  might- 
iest agencies  in  nature  work  together  for  our  advantage. 
Let  us  see  to  it  that  we  are  on  terms  of  friendship  and 
agreement  with  Him  who  founded  the  earth  upon  the 
seas,  and  who  measures  the  waters  of  the  deep  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand.  Let  us  ever  look,  with  hope  and 
longing  desire,  to  that  better  country  where  the  abun- 
dance of  the  deep  shall  give  place  to  everlasting  riches, 
and  the  wonders  of  the  deep  shall  be  surpassed  by 
greater  wonders  in  the  infinite  ocean  of  the  divine 
love. 


of  ©oft. 


Thy  righteousness  is  like  the  mountains  of  God. — Ps.  xxxvi.  6. 


m. 

MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

sacred  and  life-like  language  of  the  ancient 
Hebrews  ascribed  all  great  and  marvelous  things 
to  God.  The  Divine  name  was  bound  up  with 
the  names  of  the  stars,  the  mountains,  the  rivers, 
the  winds,  the  forests.  Instead  of  saying  that  the* 
mountains  are  glorious  in  beauty,  impregnable  in 
strength,  eternal  in  years,  the  Hebrew  called  them 
mountains  of  God.  God  himself  is  the  infinite  realiza- 
tion of  that  greatness  and  beauty  which  we  ascribe  te 
his  most  mighty  works.  And  the  first  language  of 
man,  which  was  learned  from  the  divine  voice  in  Para- 
dise, gave  such  names  to  the  most  conspicuous  objects 
and  phenomena  of  nature  that  the  bare  word  should 
affirm  the  reality  of  God's  existence  and  the  greatness 
of  his  power.  When  the  first  pair,  in  their  simple  and 
sinless  state,  looked  forth  upon  a  world  everywhere 
inscribed  with  the  Creator's  name,  they  felt  themselves? 
to  be  surrounded  with  his  presence  and  covered  with 
the  overshadowing^  of  his  glory.  The  child  of  the  first 
parents  learned  to  speak  of  God  in  learning  the  names 
of  the  first  objects  that  met  his  eye  and  the  deepest 
experiences  of  his  own  heart 


82  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

And  the  disposition  to  ascribe  a  sublime  and  sacred 
meaning  to  great  objects  and  phenomena  in  nature  was 
not  wholly  lost  with  the  first  language  and  the  Para- 
disiacal state.  Among  all  nations  great  mountains 
wo  aid  readily  be  taken  as  fit  representatives  of  the  im- 
mutable righteousness  of  the  infinite  God.  He  has  set 
fast  the  mountains,  girding  them  with  power,  so  that 
no  arm  less  than  almighty  can  remove  them  out  of  their 
place.  They  rise  up  before  us,  in  awful  and  unchanging 
majesty,  to  tell  us,  with  the  roar  of  a  thousand  torrents 
and  the  voice  of  many  thunders,  that  God  changes  not, 
and  there  is  no  variableness  nor  shadow  of  turning  in 
ids  immutable  word. 

Conceive  a  range  of  mountains  extending  the  whole 
length  of  a  continent,  piled  up  in  one  unbroken  wall 
of  rock  above  the  region  of  the  clouds,  resting  upon  a 
base  broad  enough  to  cover  a  whole  kingdom.  Con- 
ceive the  power  sufiicient  to  uproot  that  adamantine 
barrier  from  its  deep  foundation  and  hurl  it  into  the 
midst  of  the  ocean.  Such  an  act  of  power  would  be 
easier  to  perform  than  to  defeat  or  change  that  word 
of  promise  by  which  God  engages  to  fulfill  the  desire 
of  them  that  fear  him  in  all  generations.  You  have 
only  to  trust  in  his  freely-offered  protection  and  you 
are  safe,  though  the  foundations  of  the  earth  should  be 
broken  up  and  the  heavens  should  pass  away  with  a 
great  noise.  The  trials  of  life  are  severe ;  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world  are  many ;  the  temptations  of  our 
own  hearts  are  more ;  the  path  of  duty  is  beset  with 


MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD.  83 

obstacles  at  every  step.  But  such  hindrances  are  like 
the  small  dust  of  the  earth  and  the  chaff  before  the 
whirlwind,  compared  with  our  defence,  when  once  the 
great  promise  of  God  has  become  our  reliance  and  ou* 
protection. 

Go  climb  with  toilsome  endeavor  to  the  thunder- 
smitten  heights  of  the  great  mountains.  Look  forth 
from  those  rocky  battlements  which  the  fighting  winds 
have  stormed  against  for  a  thousand  centuries,  yet 
never  shaken.  Can  you  beat  them  down  to  the  small 
dust  of  the  plain  with  the  stamping  of  your  foot? 
Can  you  blow  them  away  with  your  breath,  as  the 
winds  blow  the  leaves  of  autumn  ?  You  could  a  thou- 
sand times  easier  do  that  than  snatch  one  poor  suffering 
child  of  faith  from  the  protecting  hand  of  the  Almighty. 
You  could  more  easily  blow  the  Andes  into  the  ocean 
with  a  breath  than  fail  of  eternal  life  when  trusting  in 
Him  who  alone  has  the  infinite  blessing  to  give.  And 
on  the  other  hand,  does  the  tempter  whisper  the  sug- 
gestion, that  for  a  time  at  least  something  may  be 
gained  by  venturing  upon  the  path  of  disobedience  to 
God — something  may  be  lost  by  a  life  of  sacrifice  in  his 
service  ?  Nay,  tell  me  that  you  can  hush  the  thunders 
of  the  storm  with  your  word — tell  me  that  you  can  im- 
prison the  lightnings  of  heaven  in  your  fist — tell  me 
that  you  can  crush  the  everlasting  mountains  with  the 
blow  of  your  hand,  and  I  will  believe  you — I  will 
think  you  a  sane  and  truthful  man — sooner  than  I  would 
if  you  say,  I  have  hardened  myself  against  God  and 


84  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

prospered;  I  have  transgressed  his  word  and  found 
profit  and  peace  in  my  sin. 

Many  travelers  have  gazed  with  wonder  and  delight 
upon  the  profile  of  a  human  face  of  colossal  dimen- 
sions, carved  by  Nature's  handiwork  upon  a  projecting 
cliff  of  a  lofty  mountain  in  the  Franconia  Notch.  The 
look  is  upward  to  the  open  heavens,  as  if  in  the  act  of 
devotion.  Day  and  night,  through  all  the  year,  in 
storm  and  in  sunshine,  from  century  to  century,  that 
reverent  and  awful  face  has  been  looking  into  the  deep 
immensity  of  heaven,  as  if  it  were  some  great  hierarch 
appointed  to  offer  to  God  the  perpetual  worship  of  the 
everlasting  hills.  Its  aspect  of  calm  and  trustful  ador- 
ation is  ever  the  same.  When  deep  night  veils  the 
heavens,  when  fighting  storms  launch  their  thunder- 
bolts from  height  to  height,  when  the  morning  pours 
new  glories  upon  the  mountains,  when  the  broad  noon 
bathes  the  valleys  in  silent  light,  that  adoring  counte- 
nance is  still  turned  toward  heaven  and  God. 

"While  gazing  upon  that  silent  symbol  of  perpetual 
adoration,  who  would  not  wish  for  the  faith  which 
turns  with  like  calmness  and  constancy  to  the  ever- 
lasting hills  for  help  ?  The  pathway  of  life  is  check- 
ered with  an  ever-changing  light.  The  glory  of  the 
morning,  the  brightness  of  noon,  the  darkness  of  ni^ht 
and  the  storm  play  around  us  with  varied  and  unfore- 
seen succession  through  all  our  course.  God  ever  lives. 
His  word  of  promise  is  more  immutable  than  his  own 
great  mountains.  The  mountains  shall  depart  and  the 


MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD.  85 

hills  shall  be  removed,  but  his  kindness  shall  not  de- 
part, neither  shall  the  covenant  of  his  peace  be  removed 
from  the  heart  that  turns  to  him  with  the  longings  of 
love  and  the  constancy  of  faith.  And  if  we  ever  gain 
a  complete  mastery  over  temptation,  if  we  ever  succeed 
in  casting  out  all  fear  and  trouble  and  anxiety  from 
our  hearts,  if  we  ever  find  sacred  and  satisfying  rest  to 
our  souls,  it  will  be  only  when  we  learn  to  look  upward 
to  God  for  guidance  and  help  with  as  much  constancy 
as  the  rock-hewn  face  of  Franconia  looks  to  the  clouds 
and  the  sky. 

I  have  stood  on  the  top  of  the  high  mountain  when 
the  sun  was  up  in  heaven  filling  the  world  with  his 
glorious  light.  As  I  gazed  around  and  beneath,  L 
saw  clouds  ridged  and  rolling  like  the  billows  of  the 
sea.  I  saw  them  far  off  and  far  beneath,  advancing 
toward  the  rocky  height  on  which  I  stood.  In  the 
distance  they  seemed  like  mighty  masses  of  Parian 
marble,  white  as  the  drifted  snow  in  the  noonday  sun. 
It  was  a  delight  to  watch  their  ever-changing  beauty  as 
they  sailed  upon  the  viewless  air.  The  play  of  imagi- 
natiDn  easily  transformed  them  into  the  white  thrones 
of  the  cherubim;  then  again  they  seemed  like  the 
streaming  banners  of  the  armies  of  heaven;  and  now, 
behold  chariots  of  fire  and  horses  of  fire  advancing 
with  such  resistless  might  as  to  sweep  away  the  sum- 
mits of  the  eternal  hills  in  their  march. 

By  and  by  they  approached  and  smote  the  sides  of 
the  mountain  far  beneath,  and  then  rolled  upward 


86  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

swiftly,  silently  till  they  reached  the  summit  and  shut 
out  the  light  of  the  sun  with  their  shadow.  And  then 
the  bright  forms,  which  seemed  so  mighty  and  glorious 
in  the  distance,  proved  to  be  nothing  but  a  driving, 
darkening  mist,  a  mere  mass  of  shapeless  vapor,  disfig- 
uring everything  with  its  touch,  and  leaving  no  trace 
of  beauty  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon  while  it  went  sweep- 
ing by.  But  in  a  moment  the  mist  was  gone.  Again 
the  sun  shone  clear  and  bright  upon  the  bald  mountain. 
Again  I  could  see  the  cloud  as  it  rolled  down  the 
rugged  steep  till  the  air  was  of  sufficient  density  to  bear 
its  weight.  Then,  again,  it  put  on  the  shape  and  hues 
of  glorious  beauty,  and  sailed  away  in  serene  and  gentle 
majesty  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

And  I  said  aloud  in  the  solitude,  This  is  a  picture  of 
human  life.  So  do  all  the  forms  of  temptation  appear, 
fascinating  in  the  distance  and  worthless  in  possession. 
When  the  tempter  allures  from  afar,  we  see  an  angel 
form  and  his  voice  sounds  like  the  music  of  heaven. 
But  when  he  comes  near,  and  we  give  him  our  hand, 
we  feel  the  clutch  of  the  demon  and  we  hear  a  voice 
that  mocks  at  our  misery.  The  rewards  of  worldly 
ambition  and  the  indulgences  of  worldly  pleasure  seem 
so  precious  and  beautiful  when  seen  afar  that  we  cannot 
wait  to  make  them  our  own.  But  when  they  come  near 
and  we  grasp  at  the  tempting  prize,  we  fill  our  hand 
with  the  mist,  and  we  draw  it  back  to  our  bosom  wet 
with  the  chill  of  death.  When  the  gilded  shadow 
which  dazzled  our  vision  and  awakened  our  hope,  har 


MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD.  87 

come  near  and  proved  to  be  only  "such  stuff  as  dreams 
are  made  of,"  then  it  passes  away,  and  often  in  the  dis- 
tance it  seems  again  as  brilliant  and  alluring  as  before. 
If  we  would  not  spend  our  life  in  the  chase  of  phantoms 
that  "  lead  to  bewilder  and  dazzle  to  blind,"  we  must 
turn  our  yearning  hearts  to  Him  who  is  the  same  yes- 
terday, to-day  and  for  ever.  We  must  climb  so  high 
upon  the  mount  of  faith  that  the  clouds  of  doubt  and 
fear  will  never  darken  our  minds  or  deceive  our  hearts. 

The  righteousness  of  God  is  like  the  great  mountains 
in  supplying  sources  of  life,  health  and  subsistence  to 
dependent  millions.  The  range  of  mountains  which 
covers  vast  portions  of  a  continent  with  barren  rocks 
and  eternal  snows  is  a  storehouse  of  riches  and  fertility 
for  all  the  plains.  It  is  the  chief  things  of  the  ancient 
mountains  and  the  precious  things  of  the  lasting  hills 
that  fill  the  treasuries  of  nations,  and  send  the  blessing 
of  health  into  the  habitations  of  millions.  Level  the 
Andes  with  the  basin  of  the  Amazon,  and  South 
America  would  become  a  desert.  Erase  the  Alps  from 
the  map  of  Europe,  and  the  banks  of  the  Rhone  and 
the  Po  would  be  smitten  with  worse  desolation  than 
plague  or  war.  The  cold  and  barren  mountains  alone 
save  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  from  becoming  a 
Sahara.  If  the  high  lands  of  Ethiopia  should  sink  to 
the  level  of  the  plain,  it  would  dry  up  the  fountains 
of  the  Nile,  and  inflict  worse  plagues  upon  Egypt  than 
the  ten  sent  upon  Pharaoh. 

The  mountains  supply  sources  for  the  mighty  river. 


88  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

which  lays  a  highway  for  nations,  and  lends  fertility  to 
the  soil  and  beauty  to  the  landscape  wherever  it  flows. 
The  mountains  condense  clouds  from  the  humid  air, 
and  pour  them  down  in  refreshing  rain  upon  the 
parched  fields  and  the  pastured  hills.  The  cold  moun- 
tains produce  varying  currents  in  the  atmosphere,  and 
send  down  from  their  snowy  heights  bracing  winds  to 
sweep  away  the  malaria  of  the  marsh  and  the  infection 
of  the  crowded  city.  The  mountains  yield  up  from 
their  deep  treasuries  precious  gems  that  flame  in  the 
coronet  of  kings,  and  gold  that  commands  the  fabrics  of 
every  art  and  the  productions  of  every  clime.  The 
mountains  catch  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  in  his  rising, 
and  they  gladden  in  his  parting.  They  smoke  with 
clouds  of  incense,  and  they  flame  with  perpetual  altar- 
fires,  as  if  appointed  to  offer  the  morning  and  evening 
sacrifices  of  a  grateful  world  to  the  King  of  heaven. 
The  mountains,  cold  and  barren  themselves,  and  look- 
ing down  in  serene  and  awful  majesty  upon  the  subject 
earth,  supply  life  and  warmth  to  all  that  live. 

So  the  great  righteousness  of  God  may  seem  cold 
and  stern,  forbidding  the  pleasures  and  frowning  upon 
the  simplest  joys  of  life.  There  are  many  who  see  in 
a  just  God  nothing  but  a  cold  and  impassive  Intelli- 
gence—  a  supreme  and  unsympathizing  Sovereign, 
whose  arbitrary  will  is  his  only  reason,  and  whose 
infinite  power  is  his  only  title  to  universal  dominion. 
And  yet  the  Divine  righteousness  is  the  unfailing  foun- 
tain from  which  all  holy  beings  derive  their  life,  their 


MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD.  89 

peace  and  their  joy.  The  just  God  is  the  Saviour. 
The  high  and  lofty  One  dwells  with  the  lowly.  The 
eyes  that  cannot  look  upon  sin  are  full  of  tenderness 
and  pity  for  the  sinner.  There  would  be  nothing  in 
the  universe  worth  living  for  if  we  could  not  believe 
in  the  infinite  and  everlasting  rectitude  of  Him  who 
holds  in  his  hand  the  life  of  every  living  thing  and  the 
soul  of  all  mankind.  The  righteousness  of  God  alone 
can  sweep  through  the  dark  places  of  his  dominion, 
which  have  been  infected  by  the  foul  malaria  of  sin, 
and  purge  away  the  ravaging  plague  with  its  cleansing 
fires.  The  great  righteousness  of  God  alone  can  save 
his  boundless  kingdom  from  the  triumphant  reign  of 
infinite  wrong  and  endless  despair.  God's  great  right- 
eousness alone  can  clothe  the  redeemed  soul  in  gar- 
ments of  immortal  beauty.  It  can  raise  up  the  penitent 
and  lowly  children  of  men  to  hold  equal  rank  with  the 
thrones  and  powers  of  heaven. 

The  mountains  suggest  with  terrible  significance  the 
greatness  of  the  power  which  the  Supreme  Sovereign 
can  bring  into  exercise  for  the  maintenance  of  his 
authority  in  the  world.  The  mountains  are  only  the 
frozen  waves  of  a  world  of  fire.  They  were  heaved  up 
of  old  by  some  stormy  convulsion,  which  ceased  at  the 
Omnific  word  and  left  its  stiffened  billows  still  on  high. 
Those  subterranean  fires  are  still  burning.  Not  all 
the  waters  of  the  great  ocean  can  put  them  out.  The 
earthquake  heaves  and  rocks  the  seated  hills  and  the 
solid  ground  of  a  whole  continent  to  remind  us  that  we 


90  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

are  walking  every  day  upon  the  cracking  crust  of  a  sea 
of  fire — we  are  sleeping  every  night  upon  the  thin  sur- 
face of  the  burning  deep.  The  volcano  shoots  its  lurid 
flame  into  the  heavens  to  tell  us  that  the  mighty  fur- 
nace beneath  is  always  kindled  and  waiting  for  the 
Omnific  word  to  wrap  the  whole  earth  in  devouring  fire. 
And  shall  we  not  stand  in  awe  of  that  great  Sovereign 
whose  breath  in  a  moment  can  blow  the  solid  earth 
into  billows  and  whirlwinds  of  fire  beneath  our  feet  ? 

And  it  is  to  the  shelter  of  this  great  power  that  the 
weak  and  the  unworthy  are  invited  to  flee  for  protec- 
tion. In  this  respect  also  the  great  mountains  are  fit 
representatives  of  the  great  righteousness  of  God. 
When  the  avenging  fires  were  ready  to  overwhelm  the 
Cities  of  the  Plain,  angel  messengers  warned  the  one 
righteous  family  to  escape  to  the  mountains.  In 
all  time  the  hills  and  the  high  places  of  the  earth  have 
been  the  refuge  of  the  persecuted  and  the  sanctuary  of 
the  oppressed.  For  a  thousand  years  the  unconquered 
Waldenses  defied  the  armies  of  kings  and  emperors 
with  their  songs  of  thanksgiving  to  the  Maker  of  the 
mountains  amid  the  solitudes  of  the  Alps.  They  sang 
upon  their  rocky  heights  in  sight  of  their  enemies,  and 
all  the  legions  of  Home  had  not  the  power  to  silence 
their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer : 

"  For  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  thee, 

Our  God,  our  fathers'  God ! 
Thou  hast  made  thy  children  mighty 
By  the  touch  of  the  mountain  sod. 


MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD.  91 

Thou  hast  fixed  our  ark  of  refuge, 

Where  the  spoiler's  foot  ne'er  trod; 
For  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  thee, 

Our  God,  our  fathers'  God  I 

"  The  banner  of  the  chieftain 

Far,  far  below  us  waves ; 
The  war-horse  of  the  spearman 

Cannot  reach  our  lofty  caves ; 
Thy  dark  clouds  wrap  the  threshold 

Of  freedom's  last  abode ; 
For  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  thee, 

Our  God,  our  fathers'  God ! 

*'  For  the  dark,  resounding  heavens, 

Where  thy  still  small  voice  is  heard ; 
For  the  strong  pines  of  the  forests, 

That  by  thy  breath  are  stirred ; 
For  the  storms  on  whose  free  pinions 

Thy  Spirit  walks  abroad ; 
For  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  thee, 

Our  God,  our  fathers'  God ! 

41  For  the  shadow  of  thy  presence 

Round  our  camp  of  rock  outspread ; 
For  the  stern  defiles  of  battle, 

Bearing  record  of  our  dead ; 
For  the  snows  and  for  the  torrents, 

For  the  free  heart's  burial-sod ; 
For  the  strength  of  the  hills  we  bless  thee, 

Our  God,  our  fathers'  God !" 

A'l  the  deep  places  of  the  earth  and  the  fastnesses 
of  the  mountains  are  in  God's  hand,  and  the  strength 
of  the  hills  is  his  also.  He  is  himself  the  Rock  of 
Ages — a  refuge  from  every  peril,  a  hiding-place  from 
every  storm.  The  infinite  and  awful  righteousness 


92  MOUNTAINS  OF  GOD. 

which  he  makes  the  habitation  of  his  throne  is  pledged 
by  immutable  covenant  to'  receive  all  who  seek  his  aid. 
This  is  the  great  mystery  and  glory  of  divine  revela- 
tion, that  sinners  find  their  sure  defence  in  the  un- 
changing righteousness  of  Him  against  whom  they 
have  committed  all  their  sin.  It  will  be  the  great 
wonder  in  heaven  that  millions  are  there  who  were 
once  enemies  of  God,  and  He  that  sitteth  upon  the 
throne  calls  them  brethren.  And  the  desires  of  the 
Infinite  Love  will  be  satisfied  only  when  the  mountains 
bring  peace  to  all  souls,  and  the  hills  rejoice  at  the 
universal  reign  of  righteousness. 


Out  of  the  ground  made  the  Lord  Go<2  to  grow  every  tree  that  is  pleasant 
the  sight  and  good  for  food. — GEN.  ii.  9. 


IV. 

TREES. 

HE  earliest  and  the  only  record  of  the  divine 
work  in  creation  tells  us  how  largely  the  idea 
of  beauty  and  pleasantness  entered  into  the  plan 
of  the  Lord  God  in  making  the  world.  The  first 
act  of  the  word  of  power  that  went  forth  upon  the  face 
of  the  formless  deep  was  to  bring  order  out  of  confu- 
sion and  light  out  of  darkness.  The  Almighty  would 
finish  his  perfect  work  by  giving  his  earthly  children 
an  instinctive  love  for  the  beautiful,  a  capacity  and  a 
longing  for  the  refinements  of  taste  and  feeling.  In 
anticipation  of  that  want  he  fitted  and  furnished  their 
home  with  forms  and  hues  that  would  be  pleasant  to 
the  eye.  He  set  the  winds  and  the  waves,  the  birds 
and  the  brooks,  the  forest  and  the  fields  to  bring  forth 
sounds  that  would  be  harmonious  to  the  ear. 

When  God  made  the  trees  grow  out  of  the  ground,  it 
was  as  much  his  design  to  give  them  graceful  forms  to 
please  the  taste  for  the  beautiful  as  it  was  to  load  them 
with  fruit  which  should  be  good  for  food  to  the  hungry. 
The  first  man  was  placed  in  Paradise  not  simply  to 
eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees  and  rest  idly  beneath  their 

95 


96 


TREES. 


shade.  He  was  to  dress  the  garden  and  keep  it  beau- 
tiful. He  was  to  study  the  first  perfect  plan,  and  thus 
both  guide  and  gratify  his  own  taste  by  familiarity 
with  the  perfection  of  beauty.  The  branching  trees 
and  trailing  vines,  the  brilliant  flowers  and  singing 
birds,  the  graceful  hills  and  winding  streams,  were  all 
put  under  his  care,  to  be  kept  in  such  order  that  his 
garden-home  might  be  according  to  the  promise  in  the 
name  Eden — a  garden  of  delight. 

Paradise  itself  signifies  a  park  of  trees,  wild  and  cul- 
tured, stately  and  graceful,  to  please  the  eye  with  their 
beauty  and  to  support  life  with  their  fruit.  The  inspired 
description  of  Paradise  recurs  again  and  again  to  the 
trees  of  the  garden,  as  if  they  gave  the  chief  character 
and  the  peculiar  charm  to  man's  first  and  sinless  home 
on  the  earth.  The  groves  of  Eden  were  the  first  tem- 
ple, in  which  the  new-created  pair  offered  a  pure  and 
acceptable  worship  to  Him  at  whose  word  the  trees 
grew  from  the  sacred  ground.  They  heard  the  voice 
of  the  Lord  God  mingling  with  the  murmur  of  the 
foliage  when  the  wind  of  the  morning  waved  the 
branches,  and  the  tree-tops  bowed  before  the  presence 
of  their  Maker.  To  them  the  trembling  of  the  leaves 
was  the  sign  that  they  were  trodden  by  the  invisible 
steps  of  heavenly  messengers  coming  to  talk  with  them 
in  the  shady  bowers  of  their  new  domain,  and  to  teach 
them  the  language  of  another  world.  And  when  they 
heard  their  names  called  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  it 
seemed  to  them  that  the  divine  voice  had  spoken  from 


TREES.  97 

the  sanctuary  of  the  green  boughs  and  the  pleasant 
trees  that  adorned  their  garden-home. 

When  the  sorrowing  exiles  were  driven  forth  from 
Eden,  and  the  flaming  sword  forbid  all  return,  it  was 
natural  that  they  should  remember  with  peculiar  in- 
terest the  pleasant  trees  under  whose  shadow  they  had 
worshiped  in  their  sinless  state.  The  murmur  of  the 
foliage  in  Paradise  must  have  sounded  on  in  the  mem- 
ory of  the  fugitives  like  the  dying  strains  of  distant 
music — like  the  song  of  angels  singing  as  they  soar  and 
going  out  among  the  stars.'  In  the  hush  of  noontide 
and  in  the  silence  of  night  they  must  have  listened 
with  tearful  eyes  and  throbbing  hearts  for  the  murmur 
among  the  leaves  that  once  told  them  of  the  step  of 
angels  and  prepared  them  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
God. 

In  all  their  subsequent  wanderings  it  was  natural 
that  the  exiles  from  Eden  should  cherish  a  peculiar 
reverence  for  goodly  trees  and  green  groves.  Wherever 
they  went,  the  sight  of  waving  woods  and  shady  walks 
and  clustered  trees  would  remind  them  of  the  lost 
Paradise.  When  the  evening  wind  breathed  upon  the 
leafy  branches,  and  a  gentle  tremor  ran  through  the 
green  foliage,  they  would  listen  with  breathless  awe 
for  the  divine  voice  which  they  once  heard  walking 
among  the  trees  of  the  garden.  They  transmitted  the 
same  feeling  to  their  descendants  of  many  generations. 
The  time  has  not  yet  wholly  past  when  devout  men  go 
out  into  the  solemn  woods  and  bow  down  beneath  the 


98  TREES. 

shade  of  ancient  trees  to  hear  the  voice  of  God.  It 
was  the  abuse  of  a  tender  and  sacred  tradition  that  led 
the  idolaters  of  old  to  build  their  altars  and  set  up 
their  images  in  the  groves  and  under  every  green  tree. 
The  branching  oak  and  the  bending  willow,  the  fra- 
grant cedar  and  the  feathery  palm,  were  sacred  to  the 
patriarchs  in  the  days  of  their  wanderings.  And  they 
are  as  pure  to-day  as  when  they  graced  the  walks  and 
crowned  the  hills  of  Paradise.  They  still  lift  up  living 
altars  of  green  verdure  to  heaven.  They  still  offer  the 
sacred  retreat  and  solemn  shade  where  men  may  meet 
with  angels.  They  still  present,  morning,  evening  and 
at  noon  of  day,  the  acceptable  incense  of  balsams  and 
sweet  odors  to  Him  before  whom  the  mountains  and 
the  hills  break  forth  into  singing  and  all  the  trees  of 
the  field  clap  their  hands. 

"We  may  thus  reasonably  account  for  the  fact  that 
the  human  family,  for  many  ages  after  the  exile  from 
the  wooded  garden  of  Paradise,  looked  upon  ancient 
and  graceful  trees  with  feelings  of  reverence  and 
strong  affection.  And  this  sentiment  seems  to  have 
been  encouraged  in  some  degree  by  the  Lord  God, 
whose  voice  was  heard  among  the  trees  of  Paradise. 
No  one  can  read  the  sacred  record  attentively  without 
associating  ancient  and  venerable  trees  with  feelings  of 
worship,  and  with  some  of  God's  most  wonderful  and 
gracious  visitations  to  man. 

The  more  we  study  the  forms,  the  habits  and  the 
uses  of  trees,  the  more  we  shall  see  the  goodness  of  the 


TREES.  09 

Lord  God  who  continues  to  make  them  grow  out  of  the 
ground  which  man  has  made  accursed  by  his  sin. 
Trees  seem  almost  human  in  sociability  and  in  isola- 
tion. They  grow  flexible  and  considerate  of  each 
other  when  crowded  into  narrow  spaces.  They  be 
come  hard  and  rigid  when  standing  alone.  Their 
strength  is  developed  when  they  have  to  force  their 
roots  down  among  rocks  and  lift  up  their  unsupported 
arms  in  the  face  of  the  furious  wind  and  the  pitiless 
storm.  When  they  grow  in  companies,  they  stretch 
out  their  hands  toward  each  other  as  if  in  tenderness 
and  salutation.  They  yield  a  space  in  the  open  aiv 
for  their  fellows  to  lift  themselves  up  to  the  light. 
They  crowd  along  the  banks  of  the  silvery  brooks, 
and  their  fairest  and  most  flexible  branches  are  always 
most  eager  to  overhang  the  bright  waters,  as  if  to  see 
their  graceful  forms  and  flowing  tresses  reflected  in  the 
shining  mirror  below. 

They  climb  over  the  ridges  of  hills  in  glittering 
troops  to  catch  the  first  light  of  the  morning  and  to 
wave  their  green  banners  in  the  glow  of  the  setting 
day.  They  go  down  into  the  dark  glens  and  valleys 
to  hide  the  desolation  of  the  rocks,  and  to  take  up  the 
merry  music  of  the  waterfall  upon  their  trembling 
leaves  and  swaying  branches.  They  cover  the  plains 
with  their  plumed  and  bannered  hosts.  They  climb 
the  mountain-sides  with  their  scaling  legions.  They 
woo  the  clouds  from  afar,  and  make  the  pitying  heavens 
dissolve  in  rain  when  the  parched  earth  is  panting 


W>     /  (/.    (7 


100 


with  thirst  and  the  harvest  is  dying  for  water.  They 
mourn  for  the  flowers  and  the  birds  and  all  the  bright 
children  of  the  sun  when  the  summer  is  past,  and 
their  leafless  branches  thrill  like  ten  thousand  harp- 
strings  in  sounding  the  dirge  of  the  dying  year. 

Mighty  rivers  have  their  fountains  in  the  leaves  of 
the  forest.  The  clouds  gather  and  the  rains  of  heaven 
come  down  in  answer  to  the  supplication  of  the  green 
woods.  The  fertile  plain  mourns  and  the  springs  in  the 
valleys  are  dried  up,  and  the  flocks  wander  in  vain  for 
pasturage,  when  fire  breaks  out  in  the  forests  and  the 
cruel  axe  hews  down  the  ancient  trees.  The  Holy  Land 
has  become  sterile  and  desolate  because  the  cedars  are 
gone  from  Lebanon  ;  the  oaks  have  left  the  hills  of 
Ephraim  and  Judah  ;  the  palms  which  gave  the  name 
to  Bethany  and  Jericho  no  longer  shade  the  weary  pil- 
grim. The  memorable  trees  and  mighty  forests  which 
stand  forth  as  living  landmarks  in  the  history  of  the 
patriarchs  and  the  poetry  of  the  Psalms  have  all  passed 
away. 

It  is  not  without  reason  that  ancient  records  give 
such  sacred  prominence  to  trees.  There  is  something 
almost  human  and  companionable  in  a  tree.  It  gathers 
a  thousand  pleasing  and  tender  associations  around  the 
calm  retreat  of  home.  It  cheers  the  solitary  traveler 
in  the  strange  land.  It  keeps  silent  watch  by  the 
hallowed  grave  of  the  beloved  dead  with  the  solemn 
stars  by  night.  The  tree  has  a  life,  and  a  growth,  and 
a  decay  as  we  have.  It  rejoices  in  the  light,  it  shivers 


TREES.  —101 

in  the  cold,  it  moans  in  the  storm.  Many  of  us  can 
count  some  venerable  or  beautiful  tree  among  the 
remembered  companions  of  childhood  and  the  still 
cherished  friends  of  mature  years.  Many  a  tree  has 
a  history  bound  up  with  the  most  influential  experi- 
ence of  individuals  and  families.  Many  a  man's  heart 
throbs  with  unusual  emotion  when  he  comes  back 
after  long  absence  to  the  home  of  his  fathers,  and  sits 
again  beneath  the  shade  of  the  same  old  tree  which 
extended  its  sheltering  arms  over  him  in  childhood. 

There  is  many  a  tree  whose  story  must  be  told  in 
the  history  of  the  most  stirring  scenes  of  national  life. 
The  old  elm  on  Boston  Common  is  more  sacred  and 
historic  than  the  battle  monument  which  human  hands 
have  reared  high  on  the  neighboring  hill.  The 
ancient  tree  in  Cambridge,  under  which  Washington 
drew  his  sword  for  the  first  time  at  the  head  of  the 
Continental  army,  carries  us  back  by  a  continuous  life 
to  the  time  when  the  earth  shook  and  the  heavens 
thundered  with  the  throes  of  a  new  birth,  and  the 
giant  child  of  the  West  was  born  into  the  family  of 
nations.  In  the  public  square  of  a  Swiss  town,  fenced 
with  iron  and  buttressed  with  stone,  stands  the  trunk 
of  an  ancient  lime  tree.  Ask  the  passing  citizen  what 
means  the  care  with  which  the  tree  is  kept,  he  will 
tell  you  that  it  is  the  nation's  monument.  The  life  of 
that  tree  runs  back  four  hundred  years,  to  the  day 
when  the  liberties  of  the  land  were  staked  on  the 
field  of  Morat.  When  the  invading  legions  of  France 


102lV 

were  broken  and  scattered  by  the  impetuous  charge  of 
the  brave  mountaineers,  a  young  villager  ran  bleeding 
all  the  way  from  the  bloody  field  to  tell  the  news. 
When  he  reached  the  town,  he  had  only  breath  to 
shout  the  one  word,  "Victory"  and  fell  dead  upon  the 
spot  where  the  tree  now  stands.  The  living  lime 
branch  which  the  messenger  had  used  for  a  staff  in 
climbing  the  hill  and  fording  the  stream,  and  which 
he  still  held  in  his  lifeless  hand  stained  with  his  own 
blood,  was  planted  on  the  spot,  and  it  grew  into  a  tree 
whose  murmuring  leaves  in  summer  and  whose  naked 
branches  in  winter  have  been  singing  victory  for  four 
hundred  years.  As  I  gazed  on  that  venerable  monu- 
ment of  the  past,  I  felt  as  if  a  living  hand  had 
reached  down  to  me  from  far  distant  ages,  and  its 
warm  grasp  made  me  kin  with  those  who  fought  and 
fell  at  Morat  for  liberties  which  many  lands  have  not 
yet  won. 

At  the  Elster  gate  of  Wittenberg  is  a  green  oak, 
growing  upon  the  site  of  a  more  ancient  tree,  beneath 
whose  spreading  branches  Luther  burnt  the  Papal 
Bull  and  defied  all  the  spiritual  thunders  of  the 
Romish  power.  With  reverent  hand  I  plucked  a 
leaf  from  that  younger  tree,  and  sent  it  all  the  way 
across  the  ocean  to  this  Western  world,  in  the  full 
belief  that  it  would  be  fondly  cherished  in  the  land 
where  Truth  speaks  with  a  monarch's  voice  and  Liberty 
walks  with  an  unfettered  step.  A  living  tree  is  the 
fittest  monument  of  any  victory  gained  in  behalf  of 


TREES.  10:5 

that  liberty  wherewith  the  word  of  life  is  destined  to 
make  all  men  free. 

It  is  therefore  with  a  wise  reference  to  the  condi- 
tions of  human  life,  and  the  laws  of  association  in  the 
human  mind,  that  the  Bible  has  drawn  some  of  the 
most  instructive  lessons  of  spiritual  truth  from  the 
trees  of  the  forest.  A  few  instances  will  suffice  to 
show  the  usage  of  the  sacred  writers  in  this  respect. 

When  Abraham  was  called  to  leave  kindred  and 
country,  and  he  was  assured  that  Palestine  should  be 
given  to  him  and  his  posterity  for  a  possession,  he 
went  out  of  Haran  with  all  his  household,  and  the  first 
place  where  he  rested  and  worshiped  Jehovah  in  his 
promised  inheritance  was  under  a  terebinth  tree  in 
Moreh,  near  the  spot  where  Jesus  afterward  rested  by 
the  well  of  Sychar.  From  thence  he  passed  on  south- 
ward until  he  came  and  dwelt  in  a  grove  of  oaks  that 
grew  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  with  the  cave  of  Machpelah 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  and  the  vineyards 
and  green  pastures  of  Hebron  near  at  hand. 

While  the  whole  land  was  filled  with  idolatry,  and 
human  sacrifices  were  offered  upon  the  neighboring 
heights,  the  living  grove  became  a  sanctuary  unto  Abra- 
ham. Under  the  shadow  of  oaks  he  built  an  altar  and 
called  on  the  name  of  the  Lord,  the  everlasting  God. 
Beneath  the  spreading  branches  of  the  same  trees  the 
father  of  the  faithful  saw  angels  approaching  his  tent- 
door  in  the  broad  light  of  day.  At  his  pressing  and 
courteous  invitation  they  rested  in  the  shade  upon  the 


104  TREES. 

green  grass,  as  if  weary  with  traveling.  They  partook 
of  the  hospitality  which  Abraham  set  forth  with  patri- 
archal simplicity  in  the  open  air  under  the  oak.  While 
he  stood  as  a  servant  to  wait  upon  the  strangers,  not  as 
yet  knowing  the  divine  dignity  of  his  guests,  he  re- 
ceived a  renewal  of  the  promise  that  in  his  posterity 
should  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed. 

It  was  under  the  shadow  of  the  same  oaks  that  Abra- 
ham made  intercession  for  the  doomed  Cities  of  the 
Plain.  In  so  doing  he  gave  an  example  of  reverent, 
familiar  and  persevering  prayer  which  will  afford  en- 
couragement and  instruction  to  God's  people  to  the  end 
of  time.  That  most  extraordinary  interview  between 
man  and  the  infinite  Jehovah  took  place  in  no  temple 
made  with  hands,  in  no  shrine  of  secret  devotion,  in 
connection  with  no  costly  ceremonial  of  worship.  It 
was  in  the  open  light  of  day,  upon  the  green  grass, 
under  the  spreading  branches  of  the  green  trees.  The 
man  who  met  his  Maker  face  to  face  in  familiar  yet 
humble  intercession  was  resting  from  his  ordinary  oc- 
cupation at  noontide  when  the  divine  Guest  appeared 
at  his  tent-door.  There  did  Abraham  speak  with  God 
as  man  speaks  with  his  friend. 

And  in  all  time  and  in  all  the  earth  it  is  given  to  the 
pure  in  heart,  in  like  manner,  to  speak  with  God.  In 
the  glare  of  noon  and  the  hush  of  night,  on  the  crowded 
street  and  in  the  silent  chamber,  amid  the  wilds  of  the 
desert  and  on  the  waste  of  the  ocean,  the  God  of  Abra- 
ham is  near  to  all  that  seek  his  presence — his  ear  is 


TREES.  106 

open  to  all  who  call  upon  him.  The  divine  Guest  no 
longer  appears  with  the  face  and  form  of  man.  But 
his  presence  is  not  the  less  real,  and  his  voice  is  ever 
speaking  in  gentle  accents  to  the  humble  soul.  To  each 
one  of  us  the  word  of  the  Lord  comes  as  clearly  as  it 
came  to  the  father  of  the  faithful,  saying:  "Walk 
before  me,  and  be  thou  perfect  and  I  will  bless  thee, 
and  make  thy  name  great,  and  thou  shalt  be  a  blessing 
to  many." 

When  Abraham  changed  his  residence,  and  jour- 
neyed southward  and  westward  to  Beersheba,  his  first 
care  was  to  plant  a  grove  of  sacred  oaks  on  the  borders 
of  the  desert,  and  to  consecrate  his  new  home  by  calling 
on  the  name  of  the  Lord,  the  everlasting  God.  Having 
talked  with  God  under  the  oaks*  on  the  hillside  of 
Mamre,  he  desired  the  same  green  sanctuary  to  mark 
the  spot  where  he  set  up  his  tent  and  gathered  his 
herds  and  household  around  him  in  the  pastures  of  the 
south.  . 

In  that  far  distant  age,  and  in  the  land  which  the 
heathens  still  possessed  as  their  own,  Abraham  set  an 
example  worthy  of  all  imitation  in  every  land  to  the 
latest  times.  From  him  may  all  the  families  of  the 
earth  learn  to  set  up  the  altar  of  prayer  in  every  place 
of  abode,  and  to  build  the  sanctuary  for  the  true  God 
wherever  there  are  hands  to  work  or  hearts  to  worship. 
The  forest  and  the  field,  the  desert  and  the  wilderness, 
are  holy  to  him  who  consecrates  everything  by  prayer. 
And  it  is  not  fitting  for  us  to  be  found  in  any  place  of 


106  TREES. 

toil,  of  recreation  or  of  repose  where  we  cannot  readily, 
at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  of  the  night,  call  upon  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  the  everlasting  God.  The  house 
which  cannot  be  dedicated  by  prayer  had  better  not  be 
built.  The  occupation  which  cannot  be  pursaed  in 
humble  reliance  upon  the  Divine  blessing  had  better 
be  given  up.  The  amusement  which  unfits  the  mind 
for  worship  is  not  such  as  the  friends  of  God  should 
choose. 

When  Moses  was  commissioned  to  undertake  the 
great  deliverance  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  the  Divine 
voice  addressed  him  from  the  green  branches  of  a  tree, 
which  stood  unconsumed  in  the  midst  of  brilliant  and 
flaming  fire.  The  great  I  AM,  who  had  talked  with 
Abraham  under  the  oaks  of  Mamre  four  hundred 
years  before,  called  to  Moses  from  the  burning  bush  in 
the  wilderness  of  Sinai.  After  that  first  awful  and 
impressive  interview,  it  was  hardly  possible  that  the 
shepherd  of  Horeb  could  pass  the  solitary  palm  or  the 
wild  thorns  and  acacias  of  the  desert  without  feeling 
that  the  Divine  voice  might  still  linger  in  the  green 
branches  and  address  him  from  the  trembling  foliage. 

To  us  in  our  time  God  speaks  by  his  presence  and 
power  from  the  green  branches  of  every  tree  that 
shades  the  city  walks,  from  every  grove  and  forest 
that  clothes  the  hills  and  plains  of  the  far-extended 
country.  It  is  not  necessary  to  go  to  the  deserts  of 
Arabia  or  to  the  holy  places  of  Palestine  to  find  evi- 
dences that  God  walks  with  man  in  the  forest  shade 


TREES.  107 

as  well  as  in  the  hallowed  sanctuary.  Through  all  the 
winter  months  our  trees  are  bare  skeletons — monu- 
ments of  desolation  and  death — over  which  the  winds 
moan  in  melancholy  dirges  day  and  night.  The 
spring  comes,  and  all  is  changed.  You  go  out  at 
noonday,  when  the  sun  is  shining,  and  take  your 
stand  beneath  the  broad-spreading  branches  of  an 
ancient  elm  or  the  thicker  foliage  of  the  silvery  maple. 
Look  up  and  you  will  see  a  wilderness  of  life  and 
beauty,  dazzling  and  infinite,  with  bright  sunbeams 
burning  in  the  midst  of  the  lustrous  leaves,  and  ever- 
shifting  shadows  giving  splendor  and  mystery  to  the 
flickering  and  tremulous  light.  Do  not  be  afraid  to 
believe  that  God  brings  forth  that  new  creation  of  life 
and  beauty  with  every  returning  spring — that  the 
living  trees  may  speak  to  you  of  his  goodness  as 
clearly  as  he  spoke  by  the  living  voice  to  Moses  from 
the  burning  bush  of  Sinai. 

We  have  only  to  receive  the  lessons  of  God's  word 
and  providence  with  teachable  and  loving  hearts,  and 
we  shall  gain  light  and  instruction  from  the  trees,  the 
flowers  and  the  grass,  as  truly  as  the  first  pair  heard 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  among  the  trees  of  the  gar- 
den in  the  cool  of  the  day.  The  Psalmist  calls  upon 
the  trees  to  praise  the  Lord.  The  prophet  declares 
that  the  trees  shall  clap  their  hands  for  joy  in  that 
day  when  the  word  of  the  Lord  has  accomplished  its 
work  of  instruction  and  salvation  among  men.  And 
surely  we  need  not  be  afraid  of  giving  too  much  life 


108  TREES. 

and  meaning  to  the  expression  of  God's  power  and 
goodness  in  clothing  the  trees  with  the  foliage  of 
spring,  the  flowers  of  summer  and  the  fruits  of 
autumn. 

When  Israel  marched  out  of  Egypt  they  made  their 
first  encampment  under  the  shelter  of  green  boughs  at 
Succoth.  And  for  more  than  fifteen  hundred  years 
the  Hebrew  nation,  by  Divine  command,  turned  out  of 
their  houses  once  a  year  and  dwelt  a  whole  week  in 
tabernacles  of  green  boughs,  to  commemorate  the  night 
when  their  ancestors,  under  the  leadership  of  Moses, 
made  their  first  encampment  under  the  palm  branches 
of  Succoth.  The  fugitives  had  just  begun  the  long 
march  of  forty  years.  Their  memories  still  lingered 
around  the  little  cottages  and  humble  homes  left 
vacant  in  the  land  of  bondage.  Even  liberty  must 
have  lost  some  of  its  charms  to  their  minds  as  they 
lay  down  shivering  upon  the  bare  earth  and  covered 
themselves  with  green  boughs  for  the  night.  And 
God  designed  that  their  posterity  should  preserve  a 
memorial  of  those  sheltering  palms  of  Succoth  by 
keeping  the  great  national  feast  of  the  tabernacles 
throughout  all  their  generations. 

When  they  had  passed  the  Red  Sea  and  journeyed 
three  days  into  the  wilderness,  they  were  ready  to  die 
of  thirst,  and  the  only  springs  that  they  found  were 
bitter.  Then  the  Lord  showed  Moses  a  tree,  which, 
when  it  was  cast  into  the  fountain,  made  the  waters 
sweet.  At  the  third  station  in  the  great  march  they 


TREES.  109 

rested  beneath  the  seventy  palms  and  beside  the  twelve 
fountains  of  Elim.  When  the  forty  years  of  wander- 
ing in  the  wilderness  were  ended,  the  weary  tribes  en- 
tered upon  their  promised  inheritance  at  the  City  of 
Palms.  When  the  people  were  settled  in  the  land  the 
sanctuary  of  the  Lord  was  set  up,  and  the  ark,  with  the 
stone  tables  of  Sinai  and  the  rod  of  Aaron  and  the 
book  of  the  law,  rested  under  a  great  oak  in  Shechem. 

When  the  angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  for  the  de- 
liverance of  Israel  in  the  time  of  the  Judges,  he  was 
found  seated  under  an  oak  in  Ophrah.  When  King 
David  had  taken  possession  of  Mount  Zion,  and  he 
was  preparing  to  bring  the  ark  of  the  Lord  to  the 
place  of  its  final  rest,  the  Philistines  came  up  in  great 
hosts  from  the  seaside  to  overrun  and  destroy  his  king- 
dom. He  inquired  of  the  Lord  what  he  should  do, 
and  he  was  told  that  he  should  lead  out  his  little  army 
into  a  grove  of  mulberry  trees  on  the  plain  of  Ee- 
phaim  to  the  south  of  Jerusalem ;  and  when  he  should 
hear  the  sound  of  a  marching  host  in  the  tops  of  the 
trees,  then  he  should  move  upon  his  enemies,  and  the 
Lord  would  go  before  him  in  the  swaying  of  the 
branches.  He  did  so  when  he  heard  the  sound  in  the 
trees,  and  the  Philistines  were  scattered  before  him. 

And  so  all  the  way  through  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures  we  find  so  many  extraordinary  interposi- 
tions of  God's  providence  connected  with  trees  as  to 
give  them  something  like  a  sacred  character.  And 
this  feeling  is  greatly  confirmed  and  intensified  in  our 


110  TREES. 

minds  when  we  come  to  the  Gospels,  aLd  find  the 
incarnate  Son  of  God,  in  the  hour  of  his  great  and 
mysterious  agony,  going  out  from  Jerusalem  and  bow- 
ing down  to  pray  beneath  the  silent  and  pitying  olive 
trees  of  Gethsemane. 

The  figurative  use  of  trees  in  the  Bible  is  even  more 
rich  and  various  than  the  memorials  treasured  up  in 
sacred  history.  In  the  Psalms  and  Prophets  the  trees 
are  addressed  as  if  a  living  soul  dwelt  among  the 
branches.  They  are  called  upon  to  sing,  to  clap  their 
hands,  to  rejoice  before  the  Lord  when  he  comes  to 
establish  the  reign  of  righteousness  and  truth  in  the 
earth.  When  Jesus  rode  into  Jerusalem  amid  the 
acclamations  of  the  multitude,  he  said  that  the  stones 
in  the  streets  would  cry  out  if  the  children  were  com- 
pelled to  hold  their  peace.  And  we  may  well  imagine 
that  the  forests  and  the  hills  shall  break  forth  into 
singing  when  the  long  reign  of  iniquity  and  error 
shall  cease,  and  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  shines  in 
cloudless  splendor  upon  all  the  habitations  of  man. 

It  is  said  that  all  who  receive  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation  shall  become  trees  of  righteousness,  the  Lord's 
planting,  bringing  forth  fruit  unto  eternal  life.  The 
righteous  man  shall  flourish  like  the  palm  tree ;  he 
shall  grow  like  the  cedar  in  Lebanon.  He  shall  be 
like  the  tree  planted  by  the  rivers  of  waters,  blooming 
through  all  the  year.  When  all  the  toil  and  conflict 
of  earth  and  time  are  past,  the  lost  blessedness  of 
Eden  shall  be  more  than  regained  by  those  who  shall 


TREES.  Ill 

have  right  to  the  tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst  of 
the  Paradise  of  God. 

Thus,  at  whatever  point  we  take  up  the  thread  of 
divine  truth  and  trace  it  home  to  its  origin,  we, are 
brought  at  last  to  the  land  of  rest,  to  the  throne  of 
God  and  the  Lamb.  All  the  revelations  of  the  divine 
wisdom  and  power  in  creation  are  designed  to  draw 
us  personally  and  trustingly  to  the  infinite  Source  of 
truth  and  love.  If  our  hearts  were  fully  open  to  the 
teachings  of  God's  works,  every  green  leaf  would  show 
us  enough  of  him  to  make  us  wonder  and  adore. 
Every  lofty  tree  would  lift  up  our  hearts  in  gratitudo 
and  love.  Every  wild  forest,  swayed  by  the  wind, 
would  seem  like  a  living  orchestra  of  millions  of  harp- 
strings  swept  by  angel  fingers  to  the  Creator's  praise. 

And  we  must  not  say  that  divine  truth  is  of  so 
spiritual  a  character  that  we  cannot  grasp  its  meaning 
or  feel  its  reality.  It  is  constantly  set  before  us  in 
earthly  forms  and  semblances  on  purpose  that  it  may 
strike  our  perceptions  and  stir  our  hearts.  The  word 
of  inspiration  describes  heaven  itself  in  such  terms  as 
we  should  use  in  speaking  of  a  material  and  an  earthly 
Paradise.  It  has  a  house  with  mansions  enough  to 
receive  all  that  come.  It  has  living  fountains  that 
send  up  silvery  showers  through  the  quiet  light.  It 
has  a  river  clear  as  crystal,  with  evergreen  trees  grow- 
ing upon  either  bank.  The  branches  bend  with  fruit 
through  all  the  year,  and  the  living  foliage  diffuses  life 
and  blessing  through  the  genial  air.  It  has  a  city 


TREES. 

with  walls  of  precious  stones  and  streets  of  shining 
gold.  In  the  streets  and  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
and  through  all  the  groves  of  the  heavenly  paradise, 
are  the  blessed  walking  in  multitudes  and  nations  and 
numbers  without  number.  They  talk  and  they  sing  ; 
they  wear  white  robes  and  they  carry  palms  in  their 
hands ;  they  play  on  harps  and  they  worship ;  they 
repose,  and  they  make  the  whole  region  resound  with 
exultant  and  joyous  life. 

This  is  the  way  that  the  Bible  speaks  of  heaven. 
And  this  is  the  description  of  a  place  which  our  human 
hearts  would  long  to  see  and  to  enjoy  as  a  bright  and 
blessed  home.  Our  earthly  attachments,  our  daily  ex- 
periences, our  familiar  associations  here  may  all  fit  us 
to  rest  and  rejoice  there.  The  beautiful  rainbow  and 
the  balancing  clouds,  the  waving  woods  and  the  soli- 
tary trees,  the  grassy  banks  and  the  golden  fruits,  the 
feathery  palms  and  the  precious  stones,  the  dazzling 
noon  and  the  starry  night,  the  silvery  fountains  and 
the  quiet  homes  of  earth,  are  all  representations  of  a 
higher,  purer,  more  glorious  reality  in  the  blessed 
world  beyond  the  river  of  death.  The  study  of  the 
wisdom  displayed  in  God's  works  here  will  prepare  us 
to  enjoy  the  glory  of  God's  presence  there.  What  we 
see  now  is  only  the  shadow  of  better  things  to  come. 
The  Son  of  God  took  on  himself  our  suffering  body,  and 
passed  into  the  highest  heaven  in  our  human  nature, 
that  he  might  teach  us  the  reality  and  the  attractions 
of  the  spiritual  world.  Following  his  example,  we 


TREES.  113 

sliall  use  all  these  earthly  and  temporal  things  as  helps 
and  incentives  to  the  attainment  of  the  unseen  and 
eternal. 

Among  all  the  living  things  of  earth  the  trees  afford 
us  the  highest  representation  of  the  immortal  life  to 
come.  In  the  trees  alone  can  we  find  an  individual  life 
beginning  beyond  the  earliest  records  of  history,  and 
outlasting  the  life  of  cities  and  empires  that  have 
proudly  called  themselves  "  eternal."  Far  back  in  the 
ages  of  the  past  a  wind-wafted  seed  fell  into  the  fertile 
soil  of  a  mountain  valley  in  California.  It  was  among 
the  smallest  of  seeds.  It  was  cased  in  a  hard  and  dry 
husk,  and  it  soon  mingled  with  the  dust.  But  in  dying 
it  gave  life  to  a  tender,  thread-like  stalk  that  rose 
slowly  and  tremblingly  to  the  light  and  air. 

At  that  time  God  was  calling  Abraham  to  leave  the 
home  of  his  fathers  and  become  a  wanderer  in  the 
land  of  Canaan.  A  hundred  years  passed  on  and 
Abraham  died,  and  that  delicate  thread  of  green  had 
become  a  great  tree.  Three  hundred  years  more  pass, 
and  the  descendants  of  Abraham  march  out  of  Egypt 
an  emancipated  people,  and  that  mighty  tree  is  still  lift  - 
ing  its  giant  arms  to  the  sky.  Five  hundred  years  moro 
come  and  go,  and  Solomon  is  upon  the  throne  of  Israel, 
and  the  history  of  Greece  and  Home  has  not  yet  begun, 
but  that  tree  is  still  growing.  A  thousand  years  mjr« 
are  added  to  the  world's  life,  and  thirty  generations  of 
men  have  all  been  carried  away  by  death,  and  Christ 

rises  from  the  tomb  in  the  garden  of  Joseph,  and  that 
H 


114  TREES. 

tree  still  lives.  And  now  eighteen  hundred  years  more 
of  struggle  and  conflict  and  change  have  passed  over 
the  earth.  The  New  World  has  been  discovered  and 
the  Old  World  has  been  made  new,  and  still  that  mighty 
tree,  which  was  alive  and  no  bigger  than  a  blade  of 
grass  springing  from  a  decayed  seed  in  Abraham's  day, 
is  still  lifting  its  towering  column  of  green  verdure  to 
the  skies.  It  is  a  hundred  feet  higher  than  the  high- 
est structure  reared  by  human  hands  in  America.  A 
great  army  could  encamp  within  the  reach  of  its 
shadow.  That  tree  has  been  the  contemporary  of 
Abraham  and  Moses  and  David,  of  Caesar  and  Mo- 
hammed and  Napoleon.  It  has  flourished  in  perennial 
beauty  while  a  hundred  and  twenty  generations  of 
men  have  appeared  on  the  earth  and  passed  away. 
And  yet  it  is  green  and  full  of  life  to-day.  And  it  all 
sprang  from  the  decay  of  the  one  small  seed  that  was 
buried  in  the  ground  four  thousand  years  ago. 

And  so  this  body  of  ours,  which  is  the  husk  of  the 
soul,  shall  be  buried  in  the  earth.  It  shall  moulder 
and  mingle  with  the  dust  from  which  it  sprang.  But 
from  its  ashes  there  shall  come  forth  the  germ  of  a  new 
and  an  immortal  life,  which  shall  be  clothed  in  a  spir- 
itual and  deathless  body.  And  the  living  soul,  in- 
vested with  its  new  and  ethereal  form,  shall  go  on 
increasing  in  greatness  and  beauty  and  power  until  it 
surpasses  the  highest  reach  of  this  earthly  life  as  much 
as  the  mighty  Californian  pine  surpasses  the  seed 
which  died  in  giving  it  birth. 


TREES.  115 

Those  that  sleep  in  Christ  shall  rise  from  the  dead 
to  share  his  life,  and  their  blessed  existence  in  the 
future  shall  be  measured  only  by  the  eternal  years  of 
God.  New  faculties  shall  shoot  forth  from  the  growth 
of  the  immortal  mind  as  new  branches  are  sent  out 
from  the  trunk  of  the  growing  tree.  The  soul,  in  its 
new  life,  shall  not  be  fettered  and  paralyzed  by  the 
want  of  suitable  organs  and  sensibilities  through  which 
to  act.  The  mind  of  the  man  who  is  blind  from  birth 
is  not  blind.  Let  the  defect  in  the  bodily  eye  be 
repaired,  and  the  mind  will  flash  into  a  new  world  of 
thought,  experience  and  knowledge.  The  faculty  of 
vision  lay  hidden  in  the  mind  and  only  wanted  organs 
through  which  to  use  its  power.  So  the  resurrection 
body  has  only  to  supply  the  immortal  mind  with  a 
better  organization,  and  it  will  multiply  the  powers  and 
joys  of  existence  manifold  and  for  ever. 

To  this  great  life  in  the  endless  future  we  shall  all 
be  raised  up,  if  we  know  Christ  and  the  power  of  his 
resurrection.  This  most  Christian  view  of  life  alone 
can  show  us  what  is  best  worth  living  for.  We  can 
afford  to  make  sacrifices  and  to  suffer  the  loss  of  all 
things  earthly  to  attain  such  a  mighty  and  glorious 
existence  in  the  future.  We  may  well  rejoice  to  de- 
clare our  love  and  gratitude  to  that  one  infinite  Friend 
who  died  to  open  for  us  such  a  career  of  glory  and  joy 
through  the  resurrection  from  the  dead.  Christ,  by 
his  resurrection,  has  brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light.  God  forbid  that  we,  by  worldliness  and  unbe- 


TREES. 

lief,  should  revive  the  destroyer's  power  and  make  our- 
selves subjects  of  his  cruel  dominion  for  ever.  With 
unfaltering  hope  let  us  ever  look  forward  to  that 
glorious  day  when  we  shall  be  clothed  with  the  robes 
of  immortality ;  our  faces  shall  shine  like  the  lightning, 
and  we  shall  range  with  tireless  pinions  and  ceaseless 
joy  through  all  the  beauties  and  glories  of  the  king- 
dom of  God. 


\t  drass  of  t|e  JfMfc, 


If  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  "which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is 
tast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ? — 
MATT.  vi.  30. 


V. 

THE   GRASS   OF  THE   FIELD. 

the  memorable  words  of  our  Lord,  the  grass  of 
the  field  includes  every  kind  of  herbage  which 
lives  and  dies  in  the  passing  year.'  In  a  still 
wider  sense  the  expression  is  sometimes  taken 
for  the  foliage  and  the  blossom  of  all  the  green  things 
of  the  earth ;  every  living  leaf  that  the  spring  brings 
forth  in  its  beauty ;  every  tender  stalk  that  the  summer 
dries  up  in  its  drought ;  everything  that  withers  in  the 
hot  wind ;  everything  that  dies  in  the  chilling  frost. 
The  Divine  Teacher  draws  our  attention  to  the  robe 
of  surpassing  and  perishable  beauty  with  which  the 
spring  adorns  the  earth  every  year.  He  would  re- 
buke and  dismiss  all  our  fears  and  anxieties  by  telling 
us  that  the  Father,  who  pours  out  such  a  profusion  of 
splendor  upon  the  frailest  things  of  earth,  will  not  for- 
get to  provide  for  his  own  children. 

We  have  indeed  much  to  learn  from  the  grass  of  the 
field.  It  is  the  child  of  the  sun,  and  it  bears  witness 
to  the  Divine  goodness  in  all  climes  wherever  the  light 
of  the  sun  falls.  The  Psalmist  tells  us  that  the  mea- 
suring line  of  the  sun's  light  has  gone  out  through  all 

119 


120  THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

the  earth  and  its  word  of  quickening  power  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  And  everywhere  the  smiling  grass  re- 
sponds to  the  shining  beam — in  the  valleys,  on  the  hills 
and  far  up  the  mountain's  side.  Let  the  grass  include 
all  the  green  things  of  the  earth — the  hardy  snow- 
plant  that  blooms  amid  arctic  snows,  the  delicate  moss 
that  finds  a  foothold  on  the  face  of  the  rock,  the  luxu- 
riant grain  that  waves  in  billows  like  the  sea,  and  the 
foliage  of  the  forest  that  comes  and  goes  with  the 
changing  year — and  then  we  may  truly  say,  as  the 
Psalmist  says  of  the  heavens,  there  is  no  speech  nor 
language  where  its  voice  is  not  heard.  To  every 
nation  and  tribe  on  the  face  of  the  earth  the  grass  de- 
clares the  goodness  of  God  as  the  heavens  declare  his 
glory.  We  can  see  the  handiwork  of  the  great  Creator 
in  the  smallest  leaf,  in  the  frailest  flower,  as  well  as  in 
the  firmament  of  stars  and  the  infinite  host  of  heaven. 
When  God  said  in  the  beginning,  "  Let  the  earth 
bring  forth  grass,"  the  quickening  power  of  the  crea- 
tive word  was  felt  in  every  clime  and  on  every  island 
of  the  sea.  This  frailest  form  of  vegetation,  to  which 
Christ  appeals  as  a  living  witness  of  God's  providen- 
tial care,  occupies  the  widest  range  of  anything  that 
grows  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  it  is  brought  forth 
in  the  greatest  abundance.  It  adapts  itself  to  the  ex- 
tremes of  temperature  in  every  zone,  and  it  draws  the 
means  of  support  from  every  soil.  It  goes  beyond  the 
most  adventurous  explorer  among  the  icy  rigors  of  the 
north.  It  creeps  higher  on  the  mountain  side  than 


THE  QEASS  OF  THE  FIELD,  121 

the  foot  of  man  has  ever  climbed.  No  island  of  the 
sea  has  been  discovered  so  far  remote  from  land  as  not 
to  have  been  sought  out  and  planted  by  the  springing 
grass.  Let  subterranean  fires  push  up  a  hot  and  sul- 
phurous crater  of  molten  stone  and  ashes  in  mid-ocean, 
and  the  grass  will  soon  begin  to  creep  up  out  of  the 
waves  and  clothe  the  unsightly  mass  with  its  glorious 
robe  of  living  green.  You  may  cover  any  spot  of  earth 
ever  so  deep  with  burnt  cinders  and  barren  sand,  on 
purpose  to  make  it  a  perpetual  desolation,  and  in  the 
process  of  years  the  pitying  grass  will  come  and  hide 
the  hideous  deformity  from  the  light  of  the  sun. 

We  try  in  vain  to  expel  the  gentle  intruder  from 
the  paved  streets  and  crowded  walks  of  the  great  city. 
It  steals  into  the  dark  alleys  with  a  cheery  smile,  to 
tell  the  poor  and  afflicted  that  God  has  not  forgotten 
them.  It  comes  up,  peeping  timidly  over  the  edge  of 
the  curbstone,  where  silken  robes  and  shining  equip- 
ages go  flashing  by,  to  show  the  rich  in  their  pride 
and  the  youthful  in  their  beauty  that  God  arrays  the 
frailest  things  of  earth  with  a  glory  surpassing  their 
own.  It  creeps  out  of  some  narrow  chink  beneath 
columned  roofs  and  beside  marble  halls,  "  where  mer- 
chants most  do  congregate"  and  misers  make  their 
millions.  And  it  tells  the  anxious  seekers  after  gain 
that  God's  kingdom  is  to  be  sought  first.  Our  heavenly 
Father  knoweth  that  we  have  need  of  all  these  earthly 
things.  And  he  has  promised  to  give  them  in  such 
measure  as  is  best  to  all  who  seek  his  kingdom  first. 


122  THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

If  we  listen  devoutly  to  the  teachings  of  the  grass  that 
blooms  and  dies  beneath  our  feet,  we  shall  learn  lessons 
that  will  lift  our  hearts  to  the  heavens  above  and  the 
life  eternal. 

This  gentle  missionary,  which  Christ  sets  forth  to 
speak  for  him  to  our  distrustful  hearts,  goes  every- 
where, preaching  its  silent  sermon  upon  the  good 
providence  of  God,  and  telling  us  to  trust  as  well  as  to 
toil,  to  submit  while  we  suffer.  If  you  are  inclined  to 
despondency,  and  the  burden  of  life  seems  heavier 
than  you  can  bear,  hang  a  broken  vase  in  your  window 
where  the  light  falls;  fill  it  with  a  few  ounces  of  earth; 
let  it  drink  water  of  the  rain  of  heaven  or  from  your 
own  hand ;  and  whether  you  plant  seed  in  the  soil  or 
not,  something  will  grow  from  the  moist  earth.  Some 
small,  rounded  leaf,  some  thread-like  blade  of  grass, 
will  rise  up  in  that  hanging  pulpit  to  preach  to  you  all 
day  long  a  silent  sermon  upon  trust  in  Divine  Provi- 
dence, cheerful  and  happy  acquiescence  in  the  Divine 
will. 

If  you  have  a  sick  friend,  and  you  would  bring  a 
beam  of  heavenly  light  into  his  dark  chamber  to  cheer 
his  heart  in  the  sad  hours  of  suffering,  carry  him  the 
simplest  flower  from  the  garden  or  the  field,  place  it  by 
his  bedside,  where  he  can  look  up  from  his  weary 
pillow  and  behold  its  beauty  and  breathe  its  perfume, 
and  then  say  to  him,  Your  heavenly  Father  sends  you 
this  gentle  token  of  his  unfailing  love.  See  with  what 
glory  he  clothes  the  messenger,  and  be  not  afraid  to 


THE  GEASS  OF  THE  FIELD.  123 

trust  the  mercy  of  the  message.  Shall  that  great 
Father  who  flings  abroad  his  blessings  with  such  pro- 
fusion upon  the  flowers  of  the  field,  forget  the  child 
that  bears  his  own  image  and  shares  his  own  immor- 
tality? Shall  the  great  Builder  adorn  our  earthly 
house  with  such  beauty  for  our  delight  in  the  days  of 
health  and  prosperity,  and  yet  forsake  us  in  the  dark 
hours  of  affliction  and  pain  ? 

I  passed  the  open  door  of  a  workshop  in  the  midst 
of  the  toiling  and  crowded  city.  The  black  smoke  of 
furnaces  rose  from  the  tall  chimney.  There  was  a 
din  of  hammers  and  a  clank  of  iron  inside.  Sooty 
faces  and  grimed  hands  were  moving  quickly  to  and 
fro.  Great  masses  of  iron,  hammered,  and  rolled,  and 
welded,  and  cast,  and  turned,  were  lying  everywhere 
upon  the  ground.  Broad-shouldered  and  stout-handed 
men  were  pounding  and  punishing  the  glowing  metal 
with  such  fury  that  nothing  could  be  heard  but  the 
blows  of  hammers  and  the  ringing  of  iron. 

And  my  first  thought  was  this :  How  hard  a  lot  it 
must  be  to  pound  one's  life  out  in  the  sooty  forge  and 
the  stifling  furnace!  But  the  next  moment  I  saw  that 
the  hardy  workers  had  provided  themselves  with  silent 
preachers  to  charm  away  such  impatient  and  mur- 
muring thoughts.  Before  the  window,  where  the  light 
came  in,  was  a  flower-stand,  and  the  frail  children  of 
the  garden  and  the  field  were  there,  ranged  rank 
above  rank,  to  preach  to  those  weary  and  hard-work- 
ing men  all  day  long.  And  then  I  thought  that  if 


124  THE  GEASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

Jesus  should  come  there  to  teach,  amid  the  clang  of 
hammers,  and  the  groan  of  engines,  and  the  smoke  of 
furnaces,  as  he  went  down  to  the  seaside  to  talk  with 
the  fishermen,  he  would  point  to  the  flowers  and  say 
to  the  men,  See  with  what  glory  your  heavenly  Father 
clothes  the  frailest  things  of  earth.  And  if  God  puts 
forth  such  wondrous  power  and  wisdom  in  making 
things  that  die  in  a  day,  how  much  more  will  he  care 
for  you  who  have  been  made  to  live  for  ever  !  "Work 
on,  then,  with  brave  hearts  and  strong  hands,  in  your 
hard  occupation,  and  make  the  toil  of  life  a  preparation 
for  blessed  and  endless  rest. 

And  so  all  round  the  world  the  flowers  and  the 
grass  go  preaching  the  great  lesson  of  trust  in  God. 
The  burning  paths  of  the  desert,  the  rocky  cliffs  of 
the  snow-clad  mountain,  the  unsounded  depths  of  the 
sea,  the  wildest  and  most  awful  solitudes  in  nature,  are 
strewn  with  forms  of  life  and  beauty.  And  every- 
thing that  lives  teaches  the  same  great  lesson  of  trust 
in  God.  Everywhere  the  devout  and  diligent  explorer 
finds  himself  following  the  footsteps  of  divine  power, 
tracing  the  lines  of  God's  handiwork. 

Every  leaf  that  grows  absorbs  poison  from  the  air, 
and  at  the  same  time  gives  back  the  support  and  the 
stimulus  of  life.  The  mightiest  forces  are  held  back 
from  the  work  of  destruction  by  the  delicate  fingers 
of  the  grass.  It  shoots  its  tender  roots  into  the  thin 
soil  on  the  face  of  the  Alpine  mountain,  and  holds  the 
avalanche  from  thundering  down  upon  the  sleeping 


THE  GEASS  OF  THE  FIEL.Q.  125 

village  and  the  silent  plain  below.  It  goes  down  to 
the  seashore,  and  thrusts  its  living  fingers  deep  into 
the  dry  sand,  and  there  it  stands  through  all  the  year, 
with  its  yellow  hair  waving  in  the  wind,  ever  saying 
to  the  stormy  deep,  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  and  no 
farther,  and  here  shalt  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed. 
And  the  mighty  deep  brings  up  its  rolling  billows  in 
charge  after  charge  against  the  barrier  built  by  the 
feeble  fingers  of  the  grass,  but  the  heavy  battalions  of 
the  sea  can  never  sweep  it  away.  It  goes  out  upon  the 
broad  prairie,  and  over  rounded  hills,  and  up  the  nar- 
row valley,  everywhere  covering  the  earth  with  a  green 
robe  which  is  pleasant  to  look  upon,  and  a  protection 
to  the  earth  against  wind  and  sun.  We  cannot  con- 
ceive a  more  naked  and  awful  desolation  than  a  land- 
scape from  which  the  covering  of  green  grass  has  been 
taken  away.  If  it  were  not  for  the  protection  which  it 
affords,  the  surface  of  the  ground  would  become  like 
ashes  from  the  furnace.  The  air  would  be  darkened 
with  powder  and  dust,  and  the  suffocating  sand-storm 
would  pile  its  drifts  on  every  fair  field  until  the  earth 
became  a  universal  desert. 

And  it  means  much  that  the  kind  of  vegetation 
which  is  most  widely  diffused  and  which  grows  in  the 
greatest  abundance  should  be  chosen  by  Christ  to 
teach  us  the  grand  lesson  of  trust  in  God — calm  and 
constant  reliance  upon  his  providential  care.  Where- 
ever  there  is  earth  and  sunshine  enough  for  a  blade  of 
grass  to  grow,  there  is  a  gentle  preacher  to  take  up  the 


126  THE  GEASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

word  of  Christ  and  say,  Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled ; 
your  heavenly  Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have 
need  of.  No  grief  or  joy  of  yours  can  fail  to  touch 
your  Father's  heart. 

The  world  is  full  of  the  anxious,  the  weary  and  the 
disappointed.  Millions  are  running  all  over  the  earth, 
tugging  along  under  the  great  burden  of  life,  wrestling 
in  mental  conflict  with  imaginary  monsters,  striving  to 
solve  the  awful  mystery  of  the  universe ;  and  all  to  find 
rest  for  the  soul — all  to  calm  down  the  turbid  elements 
of  care  and  anxiety  and  passion  in  their  hearts.  They 
go  too  far  and  they  work  too  hard.  They  suffer  too 
much  and  they  search  too  long.  The  frailest  flower 
that  blooms,  the  feeblest  blade  of  grass  that  grows,  un- 
folds the  grand  secret  of  happiness,  directs  the  weary 
heart  to  the  only  source  of  rest.  It  is  trust — calm, 
strong,  unchanging  trust  in  Him  who  clothes  the  lilies 
with  glory,  and  gives  the  feeble  grass  strength  to  stay 
the  avalanche  on  the  mountain  side  and  the  stormy 
deep  on  the  sandy  shore. 

The  springing  grass  says  to  the  weary,  the  disap- 
pointed, the  unhappy,  All  your  trouble  comes  from  not 
trusting  your  best  Friend.  You  are  afraid  to  believe 
that  the  infinite  God  cares  for  you  as  a  wise  and  affec- 
tionate father  cares  for  his  own  child.  You  are  afraid 
to  trust  the  guidance  of  the  Hand  that  holds  the  earth 
in  its  orbit  and  marshals  the  stars  upon  the  fields  of 
space.  You  are  afraid  to  believe  that  Christ  is  speak- 
ing to  you  when  he  says,  All  needed  earthly  things 


THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD.  127 

shall  be  given  to  those  who  seek  the  kingdom  of  God 
first.  Let  this  silent  page  preach  the  sermon  of  the 
perishing  grass  to  the  weary  eyes  that  fall  upon  it,  to 
the  troubled  heart  that  beats  beside  the  open  book,  to 
the  careless  who  think  not  what  they  read,  to  the  self- 
accusing  and  over-conscientious,  who  think  so  much  of 
themselves  that  they  think  too  little  of  Christ :  to  all 
let  this  silent  page  say  as  says  the  grass  of  the  field, 
Trust  and  be  strong ;  trust  and  be  cheerful ;  trust  and 
be  in  earnest ;  trust  and  wait.  And  let  all  trust  be  in 
Him  who  feeds  the  fowls  of  heaven  and  clothes  the 
grass  of  the  field. 

Trust  in  money,  and  you  will  be  poor,  however  much 
you  own.  Trust  in  God,  and  you  will  be  rich  and  the 
heir  of  all  things,  though  you  had  not  where  to  lay 
your  head.  Trust  in  bodily  health,  and  you  will  die, 
though  you  should  have  all  the  physicians  and  reme- 
dies in  the  world  at  your  command.  Trust  in  Christ — 
the  Prince  of  Life — and  you  shall  live  and  be  happy, 
though  the  light  of  the  sun  should  go  out  and  the  visi- 
ble heavens  should  pass  away.  You  may  be  proud,  or 
indifferent,  or  skeptical,  and  say  you  see  no  meaning 
in  the  silent  sermon  which  I  say  the  grass  is  always 
preaching,  but  you  will  learn  nothing  better  if  you 
should  study  a  thousand  years.  The  little  flower  that 
looks  up  in  your  face  with  its  smiling  beauty  for  one 
day  and  then  dies,  will  tell  you  more  about  the  grand 
secret  of  human  happiness  than  all  the  philosophers  in 
the  world.  And  if  vou  ever  find  out  that  secret,  you 


128  THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

will  say  it  is  trust — a  calm,  unwavering  confidence  that 
your  heavenly  Father  is  caring  for  you  every  moment, 
and  that  he  is  fully  able  to  make  the  greatest  trial  the 
greatest  blessing.  And  to  learn  this  lesson  you  have 
only  to  consider  with  what  glory  God  clothes  the  grass 
of  the  field,  and  how  much  more  he  must  care  for  you 
than  for  things  that  bloom  and  die  in  a  day. 

The  grass  is  also  well  fitted  to  teach  us  the  most 
Christian  and  practical  lesson  of  lowliness  of  mind. 
The  Divine  Teacher  said,  "  Come  and  learn  of  me,  for  I 
am  meek  and  lowly."  The  humble  grass,  which  we 
tread  beneath  our  feet,  takes  up  the  word  of  Jesus  and 
says,  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  also  am  lowly."  It  is  content 
to  occupy  the  meanest  place,  and  it  is  glad  to  grow  in  the 
poorest  soil.  The  more  we  tread  and  crop  it  down,  the 
more  thickly  it  grows,  and  the  more  even  arid  beautiful 
the  carpet  which  it  spreads  beneath  our  feet.  Mow  it 
with  the  scythe  and  it  will  send  up  two  stalks  in  place 
of  one.  Let  it  be  trampled  upon  by  grazing  herds  and 
crushed  into  the  earth  by  laden  wheels — let  it  lie  all 
winter  beneath  the  drifted  snow — let  it  be  cut  down  to 
the  roots  every  week  in  summer,  and  it  will  be  more 
compact  and  even  and  beautiful  the  more  it  is  mown 
and  trampled  and  rolled  and  shorn.  It  grows  where 
nothing  else  can  live.  It  comes  forth  again  with  the 
first  shower,  when  it  seems  as  if  the  hot  summer  had 
burnt  out  its  life.  It  is  the  first  green  thing  to  wel- 
come the  spring  and  the  last  to  wither  in  autumn.  It 
carpets  the  lawn  of  the  lordly  mansion,  and  it  sends  a 


THE  GEASS  OF  THE  FIELD.  129 

emile  of  joyous  sunlight  into  the  open  door  of  the 
humble  cottage.  It  comes  up  laughingly  to  be  sprinkled 
by  the  spray  of  the  marble  fountain,  and  it  goes  down 
to  drink  by  the  banks  of  the  babbling  brook.  It  wel- 
comes the  young  and  the  gay  to  its  smooth,  enameled 
floor,  and  it  slides  a  soft  cushion  beneath  the  trembling 
step  of  the  aged  and  the  feeble.  It  borders  the  lonely 
walks  with  banks  of  green,  and  it  beautifies  the  grave 
with  the  hues  of  Paradise  and  the  promise  of  resurrec- 
tion. Everywhere  the  lowly  grass  offers  its  kindly 
ministrations  to  clothe  everything  with  beauty,  to  make 
everybody  happy. 

And  this  is  the  form  of  vegetation  which  our  Lord 
bids  us  consider,  that  we  may  learn  the  graces  of  a 
lowly  and  trustful  life.  The  happiest  are  those  who 
are  willing  to  take  the  lowliest  place.  Self-conceit 
makes  the  misery  of  multitudes  who  might  be  cheerful 
and  contented  all  the  day  long  if  they  could  learn  to 
think  less  of  themselves  and  more  of  making  others 
happy.  A  man  can  afford  to  spend  a  long  winter  of 
years  under  the  chilling  snow  of  neglect  and  abuse  if 
only  he  can  come  out  bright  and  cheery  and  full  of 
hope,  like  the  grass  in  the  spring.  He  can  afford  to 
be  trodden  under  foot,  and  have  the  ploughers  make 
long  furrows  upon  his  back,  if  affliction  and  trouble 
shall  only  give  him  simplicity  of  character  and  lowliness 
of  heart. 

In  our  ignorance  and  pride  we  are  constantly  forget- 
ting that  lowly  things  are  mighty.  God  has  given  the 


130  THE  GKASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

grass  strength  to  curb  the  sea  and  chain  the  avalanche 
and  set  bounds  to  the  desert.  It  is  by  gentleness  that 
God  makes  his  children  great.  The  silent  sunshine  is 
mightier  than  the  roaring  storm.  The  Divine  Con- 
queror, who  has  overcome  the  world,  made  himself  the 
servant  of  every  man's  need.  Pride  is  indeed  strong, 
and  it  makes  men  do  and  suffer  a  thousand  things 
which  they  would  never  attempt  without  it.  But  com- 
pared with  humility  pride  is  weak,  and  all  the  virtues 
and  enterprises  to  which  it  gives  rise  end  in  disappoint- 
ment and  sorrow.  Pride  draws  its  strength  from  prin- 
siples  that  are  false  and  from  sources  that  must  fail. 
Pride  exhausts  itself  in  fighting  against  imaginary  foes, 
and  it  rejoices  over  victories  that  confer  no  honor  and 
promise  no  peace.  Pride  pulls  down  where  it  cannot 
build,  spoils  others  without  enriching  itself,  makes 
great  sacrifices  and  gains  nothing  by  suffering. 

The  grand  discovery  of  Christian  faith  is  to  suffer 
and  be  strong,  to  submit  and  conquer,  to  be  killed  all 
the  day  long  and  yet  live,  to  wear  the  cross  and  win 
the  crown.  Our  true  greatness  begins  not  when  we 
think  more  of  ourselves,  but  when  we  think  more  of 
God,  more  of  duty,  more  of  making  others  happy.  If 
I  were  called  upon  to  go  out  into  the  streets  and  high- 
ways, to  stand  in  the  noisy  manufactory  or  the  crowded 
market-place,  to  enter  the  saloons  of  fashion  and  the 
mansions  of  wealth,  and  teach  men,  as  I  might  find 
them  in  either  place,  the  first  lessons  of  human  happi- 
ness in  the  fewest  words,  I  would  say,  Love  thyself 


THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD.          131 

last,  praise  thyself  least,  fret  thyself  never.  Try  more 
to  interest  yourself  in  others  than  others  in  you.  Envy 
nobody,  despise  nobody.  Be  willing  to  take  the  lowest 
place,  and  then  strive  to  make  it  the  highest  by  filling 
it  well.  When  disposed  to  repine  at  your  lot  and  to 
grow  weary  in  well-doing,  think  of  the  manger  in 
Bethlehem  and  who  was  laid  there — think  of  the  cross 
of  Calvary  and  who  was  nailed  thereon — think  of  the 
crown  of  heaven  and  who  wears  it.  To  be  happy  be 
humble.  To  learn  how  little  reason  you  have  to  be 
proud,  look  down  upon  the  lowly  flower  and  the  per- 
ishing grass,  and  see  what  beauty,  what  glory  God  con- 
fers upon  things  that  you  tread  beneath  your  feet. 
Hear  the  voice  which  says,  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am 
lowly. 

The  grass  is  set  forth  many  times  in  the  sacred 
Scriptures  to  teach  us  the  frailty  of  our  mortal  state. 
The  wail  of  the  prophetic  voice  that  was  heard  of  old, 
has  been  poured  forth  in  every  land — "All  flesh  is 
grass."  The  afflicted  patriarch  of  Idumea  was  speak- 
ing for  the  whole  race  of  man  when  he  said,  "He 
cometh  forth  like  a  flower  and  is  cut  down."  Moses, 
the  man  of  God,  who  wrote  with  the  withered  grass  of 
the  desert  for  his  teacher,  describes  the  human  lot  in 
every  land :  "  He  is  like  the  grass  that  passeth  away. 
In  the  morning  it  flourisheth  and  groweth  up,  in  the 
evening  it  is  cut  down  and  withereth." 

We  stand  beside  the  coffin  which  holds  the  stalwart 
frame  of  the  strong  man,  and  we  take  up  the  waD 


132  THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

which  has  come  down  from  all  past  ages :  "As  the 
flower  of  the  grass,  he  passeth  away."  A  sad  company 
gather  around  a  white  bier,  and  look  down  upon  the 
pale  flowers  that  garland  the  shroud  of  a  little  child, 
and  they  say  with  flowing  tears  and  breaking  hearts 
that  both  the  child  and  the  flowers  bloomed  only  to 
fade.  We  go  out  into  the  silent  city  of  the  dead,  and 
as  we  pace  along  its  shaded  paths,  the  pitying  grass 
looks  up  from  every  mound  to  remind  us  how  soon  we 
ourselves  shall  lie  as  low  as  those  that  sleep  beneath 
the  sod.  We  look  upon  a  delicate  house-plant  which 
was  left  in  the  open  air  over  night,  when  the  frost 
came  too  late  in  spring  or  too  early  in  autumn.  It 
was  fair  and  full  of  life  the  day  before.  It  is  now 
shriveled  and  shorn  of  all  its  beauty,  and  it  performs 
its  last  office  for  those  who  reared  it  by  reminding  us 
how  soon  we  ourselves  shall  wither  and  be  changed  in 
the  icy  wind  of  death. 

We  stand  upon  some  high  place,  as  did  the  Persian 
king  in  ancient  time,  and  look  down  upon  the  white 
tents  and  the  waving  banners  of  a  mighty  host 
encamped  upon  the  plain  below.  They  come  forth  at 
the  call  of  the  trumpet  for  a  display  of  strength.  The 
field  is  all  alive  with  marching  foot  and  flying  horse. 
They  form  in  orderly  ranks,  they  lift  their  standards 
to  the  wind,  they  sound  the  charge,  and  sweep  across 
the  plain  like  swollen  torrents  rushing  down  the  defiles 
of  the  mountain.  The  earth  shakes  with  the  thunder 
of  their  feet;  their  shout  is  like  the  loar  of  the  deep  in 


THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD.  133 

storms.     The  mighty  host  seems  like  the  embodiment 
of  invincible  power  and  invulnerable  life. 

And  yet  the  glass  of  the  field  which  they  trample 
in  their  march  is  not  more  frail  than  that  exultant 
mass  of  moving  strength  and  martial  pride.  The 
crushed  flower  breathes  forth  its  sad  sermon  upon  the 
mortality  of  the  living  host  that  treads  it  down.  The 
light  in  those  eyes  which  are  now  flashing  with  fiery 
valor  will  soon  go  out.  The  glow  of  health  in  that 
stormy  sea  of  living  faces  will  be  changed  to  the  pallid 
hue  of  death.  That  mighty  forest  of  uplifted  and 
strong  arms  will  become  like  the  tendril  of  the  flower 
when  touched  by  frost.  The  busy  brain  will  cease  to 
thrill  with  thought,  and  the  throbbing  heart  will  rest. 
And  in  all  those  living,  breathing,  speaking  forms  there 
will  be  no  more  life  than  there  is  now  in  the  grass  that 
withered  and  the  leaves  that  fell  a  year  ago. 

Such  is  the  change  that  awaits  all  the  living — such 
the  shadow  that  will  fall  upon  every  path  and  dim  the 
light  of  every  eye.  And  where  shall  our  immortal 
selves  find  a  home  when  the  wind  of  death  has  passed 
over  this  mortal  frame  and  blown  the  life  out  of  this 
perishable  dust?  In  what  province  of  God's  great 
kingdom,  in  what  state  of  bliss  or  woe,  shall  we  make 
our  habitation  when  the  places  which  now  know  us  on 
the  earth  shall  know  us  no  more  for  ever  ? 

Child  of  mortality!  behold  yourself  in  the  gentle, 
flower  that  blooms  and  dies  at  your  window.     Bend 
your  ear  to  the  gentle  whisper  of  the  lowly  grass.     Be 


134  THE  GRASS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

ready  for  the  coming  of  that  frost  in  which  the  bud 
and  flower  of  all  your  earthly  hopes  shall  wither 
away.  Be  ready  for  the  blast  of  that  wind  which  shall 
blow  you  out  of  time  into  eternity.  Let  no  earthly 
hope  be  so  firmly  rooted  here  that  it  will  not  live  to 
be  transplanted  to  the  gardens  of  Paradise. 


And  God  said,  Let  there  be   tt^hl ;  and  there  was  light.— GEN.  i.  3 


VI. 

LIGHT. 

iIGHT  is  the  crown  and  glory  of  the  visible 
world.  It  is  the  source  of  life  and  energy  to 
the  body,  and  it  is  the  symbol  of  truth  to  the 
soul.  So  far  as  we  know  it  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful and  glorious  of  all  the  material  works  of  God. 
The  first-born  of  creation,  it  is  the  ethereal  body  and 
form  of  the  Omnific  word  at  which  it  flashed  into 
being.  It  is  the  chosen  medium  through  which  the 
Divine  energy  continues  to  bestow  and  sustain  life. 
Everything  that  lives  and  grows  in  the  whole  king- 
dom of  Nature  derives  strength  and  stimulus  from  the 
light.  When  we  would  describe  a  scene  of  peculiar 
desolation  and  death,  we  say,  There  is  no  light  there. 
Man  makes  his  fellow-man  the  companion  of  misery 
by  surrounding  him  with  prison  walls  and  pitiless 
doors,  through  which  its  cheering  rays  can  never  pass. 
When  the  Scriptures  would  shadow  forth  the  horrors 
of  a  home  where  despair  reigns  supreme,  they  shut  out 
the  light  and  they  bind  its  wretched  inmates  under 
chains  of  darkness  for  ever. 

The  enemy  of  all  good,  the  father  of  all  evil,  is  fitly 

137 


138  LIGHT. 

called  the  prince  of  darkness.  The  Divine  Deliverer, 
who  came  down  from  the  throne  of  heaven  to  save  the 
lost  and  to  drive  the  demons  of  darkness  out  of  the 
world  is,  with  equal  fitness,  called  the  Prince  of  light. 
He  began  his  mighty  work  by  opening  the  eyes  of  th« 
blind,  as  he  began  the  days  of  creation  by  sending 
forth  the  quickening  word,  "Let  there  be  light." 
When  he  would  gather  his  hosts  from  afar  for  the 
conquest  of  the  world,  he  lifts  up  a  banner  of  light. 
When  he  would  equip  his  chosen  legions  for  the 
mighty  war,  he  clothes  them  in  armor  of  light. 
When  he  would  put  into  their  hands  a  weapon  of 
ethereal  temper  for  defence  in  every  peril  and  for  the 
defeat  of  every  foe,  he  gives  them  light  for  sword  and 
shield  and  spear. 

All  our  ideas  of  form  and  color  and  material  beauty 
come  to  us  through  the  agency  of  light.  Of  all  the 
avenues  through  which  knowledge  finds  entrance  to 
the  soul,  the  sense  which  responds  to  the  touch  of 
light  is  the  most  affluent  and  gorgeous  in  its  ministra- 
tions. The  pupil  of  the  eye  is  the  portal  through 
which  light  brings  in  all  the  riches  and  glories  of  the 
earth  and  heavens  to  adorn  the  inner  chamber  of  the 
soul.  The  mind  sits  enthroned  as  a  sovereign  in  its 
secret  place,  and  this  swift-winged  messenger  comes 
flying  with  intelligence  from  every  point  in  the  whole 
landscape  and  from  the  far-distant  orbs  of  heaven. 
The  mind  has  only  to  lift  the  curtain  of  the  eye  and 
millions  of  bright  heralds  will  rush  in  to  describe  the 


LIGHT.  139 

form  and  hue  and  order  of  everything  in  the  world 
of  vision. 

I  climb  to  the  topmost  pinnacle  of  the  great  cathe- 
dral at  Milan  and  survey  the  teeming  valley  of  the  Po, 
with  its  vast  extent  of  cultured  trees  and  vines  in 
lengthened  rows  and  harvest-fields  between.  I  take 
in  at  one  glance  the  whole  range  of  the  Alps — one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  east  and  west — blue  with  the 
glimmering  haze  of  the  dreamy  air  and  white  with 
shining  snows.  I  gaze  on  the  evening  clouds  swim- 
ming in  a  sea  of  fire  around  the  setting  sun.  I  wait 
for  the  stars  to  hang  out  their  golden  lamps  in  the  in- 
finite dome  of  heaven.  And  all  the  while  the  light 
has  been  sending  swift  heralds,  from  near  and  far,  to 
tell  me  the  form  and  hue  and  distance  of  everything 
within  the  range  of  vision.  Some  of  the  messengers 
have  brought  their  tidings  in  an  instant,  and  some 
have  been  on  the  way  a  million  years  to  tell  me  where 
of  old  the  breath  of  God  blew  a  million  suns  into 
flame  and  sent  them  forth  to  sing  and  to  shine  among 
the  rival  spheres  of  heaven.  And  to  me,  as  I  stand 
and  gaze  from  the  giddy  height,  it  is  as  if  all  this  vast 
and  varied  scene  were  the  creation  of  the  light.  Take 
from  me  the  faculty  of  vision,  and  in  place  of  all  that 
wondrous  world  of  beauty  a  blank  and  pitiless  wall  of 
darkness  shuts  me  in  on  every  side. 

The  mightiest  and  the  most  marvelous  changes  that 
ever  take  place  in  the  visible  world  are  due  to  the  swift 
and  silent  agency  of  light.  "When  the  day  breaks  in 


140  LIGHT. 

the  east  and  the  shadows  of  night  melt  int )  morn,  it 
seems  as  if  God  had  said  again,  as  in  the  first  creation, 
"  Let  there  be  light."  There  is  no  sound  of  gathering 
hosts,  no  sign  of  kindling  flames,  no  shaking  of  the 
hills  to  herald  the  coming  change.  And  yet,  if  we 
had  passed  from  darkness  to  day,  from  midnight  to 
morning,  but  once  in  our  lives,  we  should  witness  the 
change  with  more  wonder  and  we  should  describe  it 
with  more  joy  than  we  feel  in  reading  Moses'  account 
of  the  first  creation. 

The  gloom  and  the  horror  of  the  night  vanish. 
The  world,  which  was  silent  and  formless  like  chaos 
in  the  darkness,  rises  to  view  with  clear  and  orderly 
proportions.  The  hills  resume  their  wonted  range. 
The  valleys  unroll  the  endless  panorama  of  forest  and 
field.  The  rivers  stretch  their  silvery  band  beyond 
the  utmost  reach  of  the  eye.  The  smoke  of  farm- 
houses rises  on  the  distant  landscape.  The  song  of 
birds  welcomes  the  day.  The  silent  sea  of  houses  and 
streets  in  the  great  city  begins  to  heave  and  roar  with 
the  rising  waves  of  toil  and  traffic.  The  merry  voices 
of  children  mingle  with  the  clatter  of  wheels  and  the 
cry  of  busy  men.  It  is  all  life  and  action  where  an 
hour  before  silence  and  darkness  reigned  as  in  the 
tomb. 

If  we  had  seen  but  one  such  change  from  night  to 
morning,  we  should  think  it  a  new  creation.  If  we  had 
been  blind  from  birth,  and  in  middle  life  we  had  waked 
from  the  long  night  of  years  to  the  full  day  of  perfect 


LIGHT.  141 

sight,  we  should  be  bewildered  and  beside  ourselves 
with  wonder  and  joy  at  the  change.  And  notwith- 
standing we  have  been  so  long  familiar  with  the 
"  shining  robe  of  day,"  and  the  transition  from  night 
to  morning  is  more  constant  than  the  beating  of  our 
hearts  and  the  breathing  of  the  vital  air,  still  the  light 
is  sweet  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  to  behold  the  sun. 

Always  and  everywhere,  in  all  the  languages  of  the 
earth  and  in  all  the  thoughts  of  men,  light  is  the 
symbol  of  life,  of  beauty  and  of  gladness.  It  falls  on 
the  sea,  and  the  surf  is  arched  with  rainbows  and  the 
waves  break  and  flash  in  cascades  of  silver.  It  falls  on 
the  mountains  in  the  quiet  hour  of  closing  day,  and  the 
far  heights  are  clothed  in  fluid  gold.  It  falls  on  the 
clouds,  and  they  sweep  the  plains  of  the  sky  like  bat- 
talions of  flying  cherubim,  or  they  rise  into  a  temple 
of  columned  aisles  and  canopied  thrones  around  the  car 
of  the  setting  sun.  It  falls  on  the  summer  shower,  and 
builds  an  arch  of  sevenfold  colors,  glorious  enough  to 
surround  the  throne  of  heaven.  It  falls  on  the  land- 
scape, and  bathes  the  hills  and  valleys  and  harvest-fields 
with  tints  and  shadings  of  endless  beauty.  It  falls  on 
the  autumn  woods,  and  the  dying  foliage  flames  with 
brighter  hues  than  the  canvas  ever  took  from  the 
painter's  hand.  It  falls  on  the  flower,  and  the  opening 
blossoms  are  clothed  in  splendors  surpassing  the  state 
of  kings.  It  falls  on  the  camp  of  pilgrims  in  the 
desert,  and  they  lift  up  their  voices  in  thankful  song. 
It  falls  upon  wrecked  mariners  on  the  deep,  and  shows 


142  LIGHT. 

them  the  approaching  sail  on  the  distant  horizon,  and 
the  despairing  crew  welcome  the  sight  as  if  it  were  the 
white  wing  of  an  angel  flying  to  their  rescue.  It 
creeps  through  the  creviced  wall  and  falls  on  the  floor 
of  the  dungeon,  and  the  captive  kneels  upon  the  stone 
where  it  fell  as  if  the  feet  of  heavenly  messengers  had 
touched  the  spot  and  made  it  holy.  It  falls  on  the 
face  of  the  dead,  and  clothes  the  king  of  terrors  with 
serene  and  chastened  beauty,  and  lifts  the  hearts  of 
the  sorrowing  household  to  Him  who  is  the  resurrection 
and  the  life. 

The  inspired  language  of  the  Scriptures  agrees  with 
the  prominence  which  we  give  to  light  in  describing  our 
daily  experience  and  expressing  our  common  thoughts. 
God  began  the  six  days'  work  of  creation  by  sending 
forth  light  to  chase  the  darkness  from  the  face  of  the 
deep,  and  set  up  the  reign  of  order  and  beauty  in  the 
realm  of  "  Chaos  and  old  Night."  When  God  would 
send  the  last  and  sorest  plague  save  one  upon  the 
Egyptians,  and  compel  the  proud  heart  of  Pharaoh  to 
let  his  people  go,  he  took  away  light  from  all  their 
habitations ;  he  covered  the  whole  land  with  a  dark- 
ness so  thick  that  the  traveler  stopped  where  the 
shadow  fell  upon  his  path,  the  laborer  stood  still  in  the 
field,  the  slave  sank  down  in  the  slime-pit — each  feeling 
himself  to  be  imprisoned  with  an  impenetrable  wall  on 
every  side. 

When  God  would  give  the  tribes  of  Israel  the  assur- 
ance of  his  presence  with  them  in  all  their  wanderings, 


LIGHT.  143 

he  shone  upon  the  sands  of  the  desert  with  a  pillar  of 
light.  He  caused  a  shining  cloud  to  hover  between 
the  cherubim  in  the  holy  place  of  the  tabernacle. 
When  they  went  out  to  war  at  his  command,  he  led 
their  armies  with  a  banner-cloud  of  light.  When  that 
awful  symbol  shone  upon  the  field,  their  enemies  were 
smitten  with  dismay  and  the  walls  of  fenced  cities  fell 
down  at  the  sound  of  their  trumpets.  When  it  ap- 
proached the  border  of  the  promised  land,  the  river 
divided  before  it  and  the  host  of  Israel  passed  over  on 
dry  ground. 

For  many  ages  after  the  tribes  were  settled  in  their 
inheritance  the  holy  light  accompanied  the  ark  wher- 
ever it  was  carried.  When  the  temple  of  Solomon  was 
consecrated,  the  same  supernatural  glory  appeared  in 
the  holy  place.  From  that  divine  light  there  went 
forth  oracular  voices  for  the  guidance  and  instruction 
of  the  people.  When  they  obeyed  the  command  which 
came  forth  from  the  "  glory  shrouded  in  its  garb  of 
fire,"  they  were  prosperous  and  strong.  The  plague 
was  stayed  from  its  visitation.  The  harvest  filled  the 
storehouse  of  the  husbandman  with  abundance.  No 
enemy  prevailed  against  them.  When  they  turned 
away  backward,  and  refused  to  walk  in  the  light  of  the 
Lord,  they  were  smitten  by  the  heathen ;  they  were 
wasted  by  famine;  they  were  divided  against  each 
other,  and  the  whole  land  mourned. 

And  so  all  the  way  through  the  Scriptures,  in  his- 
tory, in  poetry  and  in  parable,  the  light  is  the  symbol 


144  LIGHT. 

of  safety  and  peace ;  to  leave  the  guidance  of  the  light 
is  to  lose  hope  and  enter  the  kingdom  of  despair. 
When  the  patriarch  Job  would  describe  the  state  of 
the  departed  in  terms  of  the  utmost  horror,  he  calls  it 
a  land  of  darkness,  as  darkness  itself,  where  the  very 
light  is  darkness.  And  Jesus,  the  Divine  Teacher, 
ascribes  the  most  abandoned  and  hopeless  character  to 
the  man  in  whom  the  light  has  become  darkness. 

When  the  Almighty  would  humble  and  confound 
the  complaining  patriarch  by  showing  him  that  to  man 
in  the  broad  day  and  in  the  bright  noon  there  are 
mysteries  past  finding  out,  he  puts  to  him  the  question 
which  the  most  profound  philosophers  of  our  time 
have  never  been  able  to  answer:  Where  is  the  fountain 
from  which  light  springs  ?  And  how  far  does  it  fly 
upon  its  swift  journeys?  The  question  has  been  before 
the  world  for  thirty-three  centuries,  and  nobody  has 
been  able  to  tell  the  source  or  set  bounds  to  the  range 
of  light. 

The  Most  High  is  said  to  clothe  himself  with  light 
as  with  a  garment,  to  dwell  in  light  which  no  man  can 
approach  unto  and  live,  to  send  forth  such  a  flood  of 
light  from  his  presence  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
heavenly  world  have  no  need  of  the  sun  and  there  is 
no  night  there.  In  the  Psalms  and  the  Prophets  the 
happiest  condition  in  life  is  the  one  upon  which  the 
Lord  ever  lifts  the  light  of  his  countenance.  He  is  an 
everlasting  light  to  all  who  trust  him.  His  compan- 
ionship scatters  the  gloom  of  the  valley  of  the  shadow 


LIGHT.  145 

of  death.  From  his  central  throne  light  flows  forth  in 
waves  of  blessing  to  all  creatures  and  to  all  worlds. 

Thus  all  the  way  through  the  Scriptures  light  is  the 
source  of  life  and  joy,  the  symbol  of  glory  and  of 
good,  the  guide  of  the  erring,  the  help  of  the  needy, 
the  hope  of  the  lost.  When  the  Son  of  Man  appears 
upon  his  great  mission  of  mercy  for  the  redemption  of 
man,  he  is  likened  to  the  day-star  that  heralds  the 
dawn ;  he  is  called  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  rising 
upon  the  benighted  with  healing  in  his  wings ;  he  pro- 
claims himself  the  Light  of  the  world;  those  who  follow 
him  are  children  of  light.  The  infinite  Creator,  the 
self-existent  and  eternal  Spirit,  whom  no  eye  hath  seen 
or  can  see,  is  described  as  the  Father  of  lights,  from 
whom  cometh  down  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  God 
is  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all. 

These  descriptions  and  comparisons  were  not  made 
by  philosophers,  but  by  holy  men  of  old,  who  spake  as 
they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  it  is 
remarkable  that  their  language  becomes  more  appro- 
priate and  significant  the  more  thoroughly  it  is  tested 
by  the  discoveries  of  modern  science.  Neither  Milton, 
nor  Goethe,  nor  Byron  could  describe  the  original 
creation  in  terms  more  simple  or  sublime  than  the 
language  of  Moses :  "  God  said  let  there  be  light,  and 
there  was  light."  Neither  Newton,  nor  Leibnitz,  nor 
Berschel,  nor  Humboldt  could  say  anything  greater 
or  truer  of  the  Infinite  One  than  the  beloved  disciple 
Bays  in  the  words,  "  God  is  light."  God  is  everywhere 


146  LIGHT. 

by  the  very  necessity  of  his  nature,  and  light,  by  its 
immeasurable  diffusion,  gives  us  our  grandest  concep- 
tion of  the  immensity  of  his  being. 

The  mightiest  telescope  piercing  the  awful  depths  of 
space  can  find  no  bounds  beyond  which  light  has  never 
passed.  Go  with  the  devout  astronomer  to  his  lonely 
watch-tower, 

"When  the  world  is  still  and  dim, 
And  the  stars  flame  out  in  their  pomp  of  light 
Like  thrones  of  the  cherubim." 

Set  your  eye  to  that  mystic  tube  which  sweeps  the 
ranks  of  the  fiery  constellations  as  they  move  in 
orderly  march  across  the  plains  of  heaven.  As  you 
gaze  there  is  a  universe  of  worlds  pictured  upon  the 
inner  chamber  of  your  eye.  How  far,  think  you,  has 
the  light  traveled  to  bring  you  intelligence  from  the 
inhabited  depths  of  immensity?  How  many  years 
has  it  been  flying,  at  the  rate  of  twelve  millions  of 
miles  a  minute,  before  completing  its  journey?  It 
started  from  its  far-distant  home  before  man  was  made 
in  Paradise.  It  has  been  flying  with  inconceivable 
velocity,  without  a  moment's  rest,  through  all  the  inter- 
vening years,  and  the  period  of  its  flight  is  equal  to  all 
the  generations  of  human  history. 

And  yet  turn  the  awful  eye  of  the  telescope  in  an- 
other direction — to  some  filmy  haze  that  hangs  on  the 
face  of  the  sky,  looking  as  if  it  needed  to  be  blown  away 
by  the  wind  to  give  a  clear  view  of  the  depths  beyond. 


LIGHT.  14V 

Set  your  eye  steadily  to  the  space-piercing  tube,  and 
you  will  see  that  floating  mist  flash  out  into  the  min- 
gled blaze  of  a  thousand  suns.  And  the  swift-winged 
messenger,  which  comes  to  tell  you  of  their  existence, 
has  been  on  its  way  ten  times  as  long  as  the  race  of 
man  has  lived  on  the  earth.  And  nobody  supposes 
that  to  be  the  farthest  bound  of  the  habitation  of  light. 
As  you  gaze  you  find  yourself  floating  in  the  midst  of 
an  ethereal  ocean,  islanded  with  worlds,  and  it  takes 
waves  of  light,  flying  twelve  millions  of  miles  a  minute, 
sixty  thousand  years  to  pass  over  the  space  between 
you  and  that  cluster  of  a  thousand  isles  which  you  see 
floating  in  the  great  deep  of  space. 

And  when  we  take  the  words  of  the  Apostle — "  God 
is  light" — and  subject  them  to  a  modern  and  scientific 
interpretation,  we  are  startled  and  confounded  by  the 
awful  insight  which  it  gives  us  into  the  immensity  of 
his  being.  The  mysterious,  ethereal  medium,  whose 
lightning- winged  waves  produce  the  sensation  of  vision 
upon  our  eye,  fills  all  the  space  and  extends  all  the  way 
to  the  most  distant  star,  just  as  the  air  fills  all  the  space 
in  an  audience-room,  and  its  waves  carry  the  sound  of 
the  speaker's  voice  to  all  that  hear.  And  so  the  ever- 
living  and  eternal  God,  whom  the  inspired  Apostle 
compares  to  light,  occupies  all  space  with  the  immen- 
sity of  his  being  far  as  the  light  flies.  If  you  could 
take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  fly  for  fifty  thou- 
sand years  in  one  direction,  swift  as  the  light  and  with- 
out a  moment's  rest,  you  would  not  reach  the  outer 


148  LIGHT. 

walls  of  the  world-peopled  city  in  which  God  dwells 
and  which  he  fills  with  his  presence.  In  all  that  jour- 
ney you  would  carry  the  conviction  and  the  proof  that 
God  was  with  you  as  truly  as  you  believe  that  the  light 
falls  on  the  page  which  you  are  reading,  and  also  that 
there  is  One  present  with  you  whose  face  no  human 
eye  can  see. 

The  Apostle  wrote  more  wisely  than  he  himself 
knew  when  he  said,  God  is  light.  In  a  single  sen- 
tence of  three  short  words  he  gave  the  most  advanced 
philosophers  of  our  time  their  grandest  conception  of  a 
Being  who  is  everywhere  at  each  and  every  moment 
of  time.  There  is  no  life  beyond  the  reach  of  light. 
It  is  ever  in  God  that  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being.  If  the  light  of  the  sun  should  be  put  out,  in  three 
days  there  would  not  be  a  trace  of  vegetable  or  animal 
life  left  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  The  ocean  of  water 
which  is  always  floating  in  the  air  above  us  would  de- 
scend in  deluges  of  rain  and  drifts  of  blinding  snow.  The 
rivers,  the  lakes  and  the  sea  would  be  changed  to  solid 
ice.  The  temperature  of  the  whole  atmosphere  would 
fall  two  hundred  and  sixty  degrees  below  the  freezing- 
point,  and  no  plant  or  animal  could  live  in  such  cold 
for  an  hour.  It  is  the  silent  and  peaceful  light  which 
keeps  the  world  from  becoming  such  an  icy  grave, 
such  a  wilderness  of  death  at  any  hour. 

And  yet  of  this  subtle  and  mysterious  agency  we 
know  nothing,  except  its  effects,  just  as  we  know  noth- 
ing of  the  essential  being  of  God,  except  so  far  as  we 


LIGHT.  149 

.see  the  manifestations  of  his  presence  and  power.  We 
see  all  things  by  the  help  of  light,  but  the  light  itself 
we  cannot  see.  We  cannot  weigh  it  in  balances. 
We  cannot  measure  its  form  or  dimensions.  We  can- 
not touch  its  body  or  substance.  We  cannot  hear  the 
sound  of  its  coming  or  going.  Its  presence  in  every 
drop  makes  no  change  of  taste  in  the  purest  fountain. 
We  cannot  estimate  the  limit  of  its  power.  Its  waves 
are  shot  from  the  sun  and  the  more  distant  stars  with 
such  terrific  force  that  it  loses  no  velocity  in  flying  a 
thousand  million  leagues. 

The  vibrations  of  air  in  producing  the  highest  note 
of  sound  upon  the  ear  are  about  eight  thousand  in  a 
second.  The  waves  or  impulses  of  light  in  producing 
the  sensation  of  color  upon  the  eye  are  eight  hundred 
millions  of  millions  in  a  second.  The  force  with  which 
rays  of  light  are  shot  from  the  sun  to  carry  them 
so  fast  and  so  far  is  thirty  thousand  million  times 
greater  than  the  force  with  which  a  leaden  ball  falls 
from  my  hand  to  the  earth.  If  a  ray  of  light  equaled 
the  weight  of  a  grain  of  sand,  a  single  second  of  sun- 
shine would  shatter  the  earth  to  atoms. 

The  heat  on  the  surface  of  the  sun,  which  sends  us 
our  light,  is  so  intense  that  to  equal  it  on  one  square 
rod  of  ground  we  should  be  obliged  to  burn  a  thousand 
tons  of  coal  a  day.  The  brightest  light  that  man  can 
make,  with  all  his  chemical  and  galvanic  apparatus, 
looks  like  a  dark  spot  when  held  between  the  eye  and 
the  sun.  The  calcium  light  of  the  chemist  is  so  in- 


150  LIGHT. 

tense  that  you  cannot  look  at  it  for  an  instant  \dthout 
blinding  your  eye.  And  yet  that  light  is  a  dark  spot 
compared  with  the  sun. 

And  God  keeps  that  great  fire  burning  from  century 
to  century,  thirteen  hundred  thousand  times  larger 
than  the  whole  mass  of  the  earth,  and  it  is  as  bright  to- 
day as  when  God  said  to  the  sun,  "Shine"  and  he  broke 
forth  into  the  dawn.  That  great  fire,  which  the  breath 
of  the  Almighty  has  kindled  to  keep  our  earth  warm, 
sends  out  two  thousand  million  times  as  much  light 
and  heat  as  the  whole  earth  receives,  and  yet  the  fiery 
fountain  flows  as  free  and  full  from  age  to  age. 

And  there  are  other  suns,  a  million  times  larger 
than  our  own — so  many  in  number  that  we  cannot 
count  them — standing  as  landmarks  and  light-houses 
on  the  infinite  ocean  of  space,  blazing  with  a  brightness 
that  never  grows  dim,  diffusing  life  and  blessing  with 
an  affluence  that  knows  no  bound.  And  the  myste- 
rious essence  in  which  they  all  float,  the  mighty  me- 
dium which  binds  them  all  together  in  mutual  relations 
and  correspondences,  the  swift  messenger  that  brings 
intelligence  from  them  all,  and  reveals  the  nature  and 
constitution  of  the  most  distant  world,  is  light.  We  dig 
in  the  earth  and  find  a  hard  substance;  we  smelt  it  in 
the  fire,  we  weigh  it  in  scales;  we  shape  it  with  ham- 
mers, we  test  it  with  electric  and  chemical  forces ;  we 
bend  and  draw  and  twist  it  in  every  way  to  find  out 
its  properties.  And  the  light  which  comes  on  a  jour- 
ney of  fifty  thousand  years  tells  us  that  if  we  could 


LIGHT.  151 

explore  the  surface  and  dig  in  the  soil  of  the  distant 
world  from  which  it  sprang,  we  should  find  the  same 
substance  with  the  same  properties  there.  Light  tells 
us  that  a  uniform,  all-pervading  energy  rules  through 
all  worlds,  gives  all  life,  sustains  all  harmony  and  lives 
on  unchanged  from  age  to  age. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  spirit  of  inspiration,  in  show- 
ing the  Apostle  unto  what  he  should  liken  God,  moved 
him  to  write  the  words,  "  God  is  light."  God  is  like 
that  most  mighty  and  mysterious  essence  which  fills  all 
space,  sustains  all  life,  gives  beauty  and  harmony  to  all 
worlds.  And  this  immeasurable  affluence  of  blessing 
which  flows  from  the  light  is  only  a  sign,  a  faint  sym- 
bol, of  the  greater  bounty  of  the  Father  of  lights,  from 
whom  cometh  down  every  good  and  perfect  gift.  The 
beneficence  which  flows  from  him  is  vast  enough  to  fill 
the  universe,  and  it  is  minute  and  special  enough  to 
clothe  the  humblest  flower  with  beauty  and  make  the 
feeblest  life  a  blessing. 

We  have  only  to  desire  it,  and  this  infinite  and  ever- 
lasting God  will  be  unto  us  as  a  Father.  He  will  look 
upon  us  with  all  the  special  and  tender  interest  which 
the  kind  parent  feels  in  his  own  children.  He  will 
make  us  partakers  of  his  own  nature,  heirs  of  the 
riches  and  glories  of  his  boundless  kingdom.  He  will 
be  with  us  through  the  whole  journey  of  life,  and  his 
presence  shall  be  our  guide  when  we  enter  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death.  When  this  perishable  frame 
returns  to  the  dust,  he  will  clothe  us  with  a  body 


152  LIGHT. 

which  shall  be  as  ethereal  as  the  light,  and  which  shall 
traverse  his  kingdom  from  world  to  world  as  swift  and 
as  far  as  the  beams  of  the  morning  fly.  To  secure  that 
blessed  and  glorious  existence  for  our  own  we  have 
only  to  believe  Him  who  is  the  Light  of  the  world — we 
have  only  to  follow  Him  who  has  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light. 

I  have  seen,  in  a  gay  and  luxurious  city,  a  pleasure- 
garden  brilliantly  illuminated  by  night.  Bright  jets 
of  flame  ran  along  the  climbing  vines  and  spreading 
branches  of  trees  without  burning  them.  The  winding 
walks  and  beds  of  flowers  were  fenced  with  fiery  stars. 
Silvery  streams  of  flame  shot  up  like  blades  of  polished 
steel  among  the  grass.  Arbors  and  grottoes  and  arcades 
were  lighted  with  lilies  and  laburnums  whose  corollas 
were  crowns  of  fire.  Here  and  there  the  spray  of 
fountains  fell  like  a  shower  of  gems,  and  the  sound  of 
rushing  waters  mingled  with  the  swell  of  soft  music 
that  rose  and  died  at  intervals  upon  the  evening  air. 
At  a  central  position  stood  an  architectural  structure 
built  like  a  temple,  with  columns  and  arches  and  cor- 
ridors, shining  as  if  they  had  been  framed  of  solid  light 
in  the  chambers  of  the  morning  for  the  palace  of  the 
king  of  day. 

And  in  all  the  walks  and  avenues  and  central  squares 
were  multitudes  of  people  moving  to  and  fro.  Some 
were  young  and  beautiful ;  others  were  wrinkled  with 
age  and  bowed  with  infirmity.  Some  were  dressed  in 
garments  that  princes  might  wear  at  the  high  festival 


LIGHT.  153 

of  kings,  and  others  were  clothed  in  the  coarse  garb 
of  poverty,  and  they  saluted  their  friends  with  the  cal- 
loused hands  of  labor.  But  all  courted  the  light  and 
were  happy.  They  flitted  to  and  fro  on  the  brightest 
walks,  and  they  hovered  around  the  central  pavilion, 
where  the  blaze  of  illumination  was  most  intense  and 
the  swell  of  music  rolled  forth  with  the  sweetest  cadence 
upon  the  air.  And  I  thought,  If  man,  at  great  expense 
and  by  exhausting  the  utmost  resources  of  art,  can 
make  an  earthly  garden  seem  so  much  like  Paradise 
for  an  hour — if  an  earthly  prince  can  give  the  people 
of  his  capital  so  much  joy  by  scattering  lights  among 
the  trees  and  fountains  of  his  palace-grounds — how 
much  more  glorious  shall  be  the  gardens  of  the 
blessed  when  the  King  himself  walks  among  his  ran- 
somed host,  and  the  light  which  fills  the  universe  with 
blessing  shines  in  his  face  as  he  calls  their  names  and 
owns  them  as  his  brethren ! 

And  even  now,  in  the  sweet  anticipations  of  faith, 
we  can  walk  with  the  King  and  rejoice  in  his  light. 
He  comes  to  ask  our  companionship,  and  he  offers  to 
guide  us  in  the  safe  way.  From  his  presence  flows  the 
only  light  that  has  ever  dawned  upon  the  path  of  the 
hopeless  and  the  wandering.  He  comes  to  the  family 
circle  and  makes  an  earthly  home  the  vestibule  of 
heaven.  He  comes  to  the  dark  chamber  of  affliction, 
and  to  the  weary  sufferer  and  the  broken-hearted 
mourner  there  is  no  more  night.  He  walks  with  us 
in  the  busy  street,  and  our  hearts  burn  within  us  all 


154  LIGHT. 

the  way.  He  comes  to  the  counting-room,  and  the 
perishable  goods  of  the  merchant  are  transformed  into 
the  treasures  of  heaven.  He  comes  to  the  workshop, 
and  the  place  becomes  holy  as  the  house  where  Paul 
wrought  at  tentmaking  in  Corinth.  He  comes  to  the 
poor,  the  lonely  and  heart-broken,  and  his  presence 
charms  away  all  their  complaints  and  sorrows.  He 
comes  to  the  learned,  the  gifted,  the  mighty,  and  they 
meet  him  in  all  the  lofty  walks  of  science,  they  see  his 
sovereign  Hand  in  all  the  events  of  history,  they  crown 
him  above  all  the  glories  of  the  world.  He  comes  to 
the  dungeon,  the  rack  and  the  fire,  where  his  faithful 
ones  are  tortured  for  a  testimony  unto  his  name,  and 
they  sing  for  joy  amid  the  agonies  of  martyrdom.  He 
comes  to  the  silent  chamber,  where  a  weeping  household 
are  waiting  to  see  a  Christian  die,  and  both  the  living 
and  the  dying  feel  that  the  bitterness  of  death  is  past 
when  they  see  his  face.  Surely  such  a  Friend,  Guide, 
Comforter  is  entitled  to  say,  I  am  the  Light  of  the 
world. 


s 


Canst  thou  send  lightnings,  that  they  may  go,  and  say  unto  thee,  Here  we 
are  ? — JOB  xxxviii.  35. 


VII. 

LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

NE  of  the  most  sublime  displays  of  the  powers 
and  terrors  of  Nature  that  I  ever  witnessed  was 
a  thunder-storm  at  night  among  mountains. 
The  black  clouds  came  down  upon  the  lofty 
peaks  and  ridges,  and  the  narrow  defiles,  lighted  up 
by  the  vivid  lightnings,  looked  like  long  galleries  in 
some  vast  prison-house  or  subterranean  cavern,  walled 
in  by  the  impassable  hills  and  roofed  over  by  the  im- 
penetrable clouds.  The  quick  flashes,  that  displayed 
everything  with  dazzing  brilliancy  for  an  instant,  made 
the  darkness  deeper  and  blacker  by  sudden  contrast 
with  the  blinding  light.  The  awful  silence  which  fol- 
lowed the  gleam  of  the  lightning  made  the  thunder 
seem  louder  when  it  came  with  a  crash  which  shook 
the  solid  earth,  and  rolled  away  with  mingled  and 
prolonged  reverberations  among  the  mountains. 

The  blaze  and  the  peal  followed  each  other  in  more 
rapid  succession  as  the  fighting  armies  of  the  storm 
drew  near,  until  the  whole  air  shone  with  a  rustling 
flame,  and  the  echoes  mingled  and  multiplied,  peal  on 
peal,  in  one  unceasing  roar.  The  sheeted  torrents  that 

157 


158  LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

hung  on  the  face  of  the  cliff  were  changed  to  liquid 
fire.  The  clouds  that  swept  in  black  and  billowy 
masses  through  the  defiles  appeared  like  the  sulphur- 
ous and  scorching  breath  of  some  fire-breathing  mon- 
ster, beating  down  the  mountains  in  his  rage  with  his 
mighty  hammer  and  reading  the  rocks  in  his  blind 
and  terrible  madness.  When  the  first  dash  of  rain 
fell,  it  seemed  as  if  the  suffering  heavens  and  the 
shaken  earth  were  dissolved  in  tears  of  terror  and 
anguish  under  the  burning  stroke  of  the  lightning 
and  the  wrathful  fury  of  the  storm.  Soon  every  other 
sound  was  deafened  by  the  roar  of  the  falling  rain  and 
the  rush  of  the  swollen  torrents  leaping  down  the 
mountain.  The  lightning  ceased,  the  thunder  died 
away ;  and  then  it  seemed  as  if  the  descending  floods 
had  put  out  the  flame  which  threatened  to  set  the 
heavens  on  fire  and  burn  the  mountains  to  their 
base. 

One  must  be  very  insensible  not  to  be  moved  with 
feelings  of  awe  when  witnessing  such  a  terrible  conflict 
of  the  elements  among  mountains  at  night.  And  it 
gives  us  one  of  the  loftiest  conceptions  of  the  power 
of  the  infinite  Jehovah  when  we  consider  that  his 
word  alone  can  command  the  clouds  and  the  winds. 
He  can  call  the  swift  lightnings,  and  they  shall  re- 
spond with  thundering  voices,  "  Here  we  are." 

When  the  Almighty  answered  Job  out  of  the  whirl- 
wind, he  claimed  it  as  a  peculiar  prerogative  of  his  own 
to  send  out  lightnings  and  direct  the  course  of  the 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  159 

storm.  The  sphere  of  human  knowledge  and  power 
has  been  greatly  enlarged  in  modern  times.  But  no 
man  has  risen  high  enough  in  mastery  over  the  ele- 
ments to  sit  as  sovereign  in  the  secret  place  of  thunder. 
No  skill  or  science  or  invention  of  man  has  revealed 
the  hiding  of  God's  power  in  the  lightning. 

And  God  is  just  as  sovereign  in  all  the  conflicts  and 
agitations  of  human  society  as  he  is  in  the  warring 
elements  of  the  skies.  He  can  command  the  light- 
nings of  human  passion  and  speak  peace  to  the  fiercest 
tempests  that  ever  rage  in  the  human  soul.  It  requires 
a  higher  exercise  of  faith  to  believe  that  God  rules  in 
the  proud  and  imperial  realm  of  mind  than  it  does  to 
believe  that  he  can  chain  the  stormy  wind  and  direct 
the  stroke  of  the  quick  lightning.  We  involuntarily 
associate  divine  power  and  sovereignty  with  the  most 
awful  phenomena  of  nature.  We  are  apt  to  forget  that 
the  hearts  of  men,  the  secret  will  and  the  sovereign 
choice,  are  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  he  can  turn  them 
as  he  turns  the  rivers  among  the  hills  and  moves  the 
clouds  on  the  path  of  the  wind.  But  it  would  be  a 
very  dark  prospect  for  human  society  and  the  world 
if  we  could  not  believe  that  the  Almighty  hand  can 
restrain  the  violence  of  human  passion  and  direct  the 
fiery  thunderbolts  of  war.  He  who  gathers  the  clouds 
and  makes  the  lightnings  his  messengers  can  also  make 
the  more  wasteful  lightnings  of  man's  wrath  the  minister 
of  mercy  and  the  means  of  good.  The  great  Being 
from  whom  comes  all  life  and  energy  will  not  suffer 


160  LIGHTNINGS—  GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

any  of  the  elements  of  his  creation  to  become  too 
strong  for  his  control.  He  can  flash  light  into  the 
dark  councils  of  wickedness,  and  expose  them  to  con- 
tempt before  the  world.  He  can  blast  the  mighiiest 
powers  of  the  earth  with  the  thunder-stroke  of  his 
righteous  indignation.  The  lightnings  of  war  that 
terrify  the  nations  come  and  go  at  his  bidding.  The 
thunders  of  battle  and  revolution  that  shake  the  foun- 
dations of  the  world  are  silent  at  his  word. 

This  is  our  unfailing  source  of  satisfaction  in  study- 
ing the  history  of  the  past ;  this  is  the  source  of  our 
feeling  of  safety  while  observing  the  wants  and  perils 
of  the  hour.  Let  the  tempest,  in  its  wildest  and  most 
wasteful  fury,  teach  us  this  great  lesson,  which  was 
written  for  us  by  the  inspired  Psalmist  so  long  ago : 
The  Lord  sitteth  king  upon  the  floods ;  the  Lord  on 
high  is  mightier  than  many  waters.  Trust  in  him  and 
be  strong.  In  the  day  of  trouble,  flee  for  shelter  to 
the  shadow  of  his  throne  and  have  no  fear.  Every 
child  of  God  owes  it  to  the  great  privilege  and  honor 
of  his  faith  to  show  that  in  all  the  perils  and  trials  of 
life  he  can  be  fearless  and  firm ;  in  all  the  sorrows  and 
afflictions  of  life  he  can  rejoice  and  be  glad.  Christian 
faith  never  teaches  a  more  important  lesson  than  it 
does  by  manifesting  firmness  and  serenity  of  mind 
amid  all  the  temptations  of  the  world  and  the  tempests 
of  passion. 

The  conquerors  of  the  world  are  the  men  who  can  be 
calm  and  self-possessed  in  the  midst  of  agitation.  The 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  161 

teachers  and  benefactors  of  the  world  are  the  men  who 
never  lose  faith  in  God,  and  who  inspire  faith  in  others 
by  the  strength  and  constancy  of  their  own.  The 
truest  comforters  of  the  afflicted,  the  angels  of  mercy 
to  the  suffering,  the  messengers  of  peace  to  troubled 
hearts,  are  those  who  find  good  in  everything,  and  who 
need  no  hard  processes  of  reasoning  to  convince  them- 
selves and  others  that  God  can  make  all  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  hin.  It  may  cost 
great  sacrifices  to  gain  such  faith.  But  it  cannot  cost 
too  much.  It  is  the  one  pearl  of  infinite  price,  for  the 
possession  of  which  the  purchaser  must  begin  by  giving 
all  that  he  has. 

The  lightning  is  the  fit  representative  of  the  unri- 
valed sovereignty  of  the  infinite  God.  We  have  indeed 
learned  something  of  its  mysterious  powers  and  proper- 
ties. We  proudly  speak  of  making  it  our  post-boy  to 
carry  messages  around  the  earth.  We  have  stretched 
an  iron  thread  over  the  mountains  and  across  the 
plains  and  under  the  seas.  And  by  calling  the  light- 
ning to  our  aid  we  have  made  the  slender  wire  thrill 
with  the  pulses  of  thought  from  nation  to  nation  and 
from  continent  to  continent.  But  what  is  the  amount 
of  electric  force  which  man  can  control  compared  with 
the  lightnings  which  answer  to  the  Divine  call  in  the 
heavens  with  a  voice  which  shakes  the  earth,  saying, 
"  Here  we  are"  ? 

The  battery  which  sends  a  pulsation  of  electric  force 

under  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean  may 
K 


162  LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

be  so  small  that  you  can  wear  it  as  a  thimble  upon 
your  finger.  The  battery  of  thunder  which  is  answer- 
ing to  God's  will  in  the  heavens  as  I  write  these  words 
on  this  hot  summer's  night,  spreads  over  thousands  of 
miles  of  charged  cloud.  It  stretches  away  westward 
to  the  Alleghanies  and  southward  to  the  sea,  and  every 
particle  of  mist  in  the  black  cloud  which  darkens  the 
sky  holds  the  concealed  fire  of  the  unconquerable 
lightning.  Nothing  can  stand  before  the  fiery  bolt 
which  it  shoots  down  upon  the  defenceless  earth.  The 
harder  the  substance  which  it  strikes,  the  more  sure  it 
is  to  be  melted  or  shivered  to  atoms.  The  more  resist- 
ance it  encounters,  the  more  certain  it  is  to  move  on  its 
way  and  rend  or  burn  its  own  path  as  it  goes. 

It  was  not  therefore  simply  from  a  concession  to  the 
ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  time  that  the  Bible 
so  often  made  the  lightning  the  representative  of  the 
power  and  sovereignty  of  the  infinite  God.  When  the 
Almighty  would  plague  the  Egyptians  for  their  pride 
and  their  unwillingness  to  let  his  people  go,  he  thun- 
dered marvelously  with  his  voice  from  the  heavens, 
and  the  fire  of  his  lightnings  ran  along  the  ground. 
When  the  Philistines  came  up  from  the  plains  of  Sha- 
ron and  laid  waste  the  borders  of  Ephraim  and  Benja- 
min, the  prophet  Samuel  cried  unto  the  Lord  for  help 
against  the  heathen.  And  the  Lord  thundered  with  a 
great  thunder  upon  the  Philistines,  and  they  were 
smitten  before  the  armies  of  Israel.  For  a  whole  gen- 
eration the  giants  of  Gath  and  the  princes  of  Askelop 


LIGHTNINGS-GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  163 

did  not  recover  from  the  terrors  of  the  day  when  the 
lightnings  of  Jehovah  smote  them  at  the  heights 
of  Gibeon  and  drove  them  down  the  rocky  pass  ot 
Bethhoron. 

When  Samuel  would  show  his  people  that  they  had 
acted  presumptuously  in  asking  for  a  king  to  reign 
over  them,  he  cried  unto  the  Lord  in  the  time  of  the 
wheat-harvest,  when  rain  never  falls  in  the  land  of 
Israel,  and  behold  the  heavens  were  darkened  with 
clouds  and  mighty  thunders  shook  the  hills.  When 
the  Most  High  came  down  upon  Sinai  with  the  ten  thou- 
sands of  his  angels  for  the  proclamation  of  his  fiery  law 
before  all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  the  earth  trembled  and 
the  eternal  hills  did  bow,  and  there  were  thunders  and 
lightnings  and  a  thick  cloud  upon  the  mount.  When 
the  Apostle  John  was  caught  up  to  Paradise  in  the 
vision  of  the  Apocalypse,  he  saw  the  throne  of  the 
Lamb  before  the  sea  of  glass  arched  with  rainbows  and 
girt  with  lamps  of  fire,  and  out  of  the  throne  proceeded 
lightnings  and  thunderings  and  voices. 

And  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  a  profound  and  suggest- 
ive reason  why  the  Bible  so  often  makes  these  most 
awful  phenomena  of  nature  accompany  the  most  gra- 
cious and  instructive  manifestations  of  the  infinite  God. 
It  is  undoubtedly  to  teach  us  that  while  we  love  we 
should  fear ;  while  we  trust  we  should  tremble ;  while 
we  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace  and  confidently 
ask  our  Father's  help  in  every  time  of  need,  as  we  are 
invited  and  commanded  to  do  in  his  word,  we  should 


164  LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

not  forget  that  for  sinful  creatures  like  us  it  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God. 

Lightnings  and  thunderings  come  forth  from  the 
throne  of  the  Lamb  to  teach  us  that  the  most  merciful 
One  is  also  the  most  mighty  ;  the  most  forgiving  is  the 
most  just ;  nothing  is  so  much  to  be  sought  as  the  love, 
and  nothing  is  so  much  to  be  feared  as  the  wrath,  of  the 
Lamb.  Power  without  pity  is  cold  and  repulsive. 
Pity  without  power  is  weak  and  helpless.  Both  are 
united  in  the  throne  of  the  Lamb — the  power  to  pro- 
tect and  to  punish,  the  pity  to  sympathize  and  to  save. 
The  seat  of  mercy  and  the  throne  of  grace  must  needs 
send  forth  lightnings  and  thunders  to  teach  us  that  He 
who  so  freely  forgives  has  the  power  and  the  right  to 
punish.  He  who  humbled  himself  unto  the  birth  in 
Bethlehem  and  the  death  of  Calvary  holds  the  keys  of 
life  and  death.  The  manger  and  the  cross  are  over- 
shadowed and  glorified  by  the  crown  and  the  throne. 
The  just  God  is  the  Saviour.  The  King  of  heaven  is 
the  servant  of  all.  The  infinitely  Blessed  is  the  Man 
of  Sorrows. 

Oh  how  mightily  and  lovingly  are  we  drawn  to  this 
awful  and  infinite  combination  of  power  and  pity,  just- 
ice and  mercy,  the  lightnings  of  wrath  and  the  relent- 
ings  of  love!  The  cloud  of  threatening  is  the  dark 
background  on  which  God  hangs  out  the  bow  of  peace 
and  reconciliation.  We  should  not  heed  the  still  small 
voice  of  tenderness  and  pity  if  we  were  not  sometimes 
awed  to  silence  and  attention  by  the  voice  of  threaten- 


LIGHTNINGS—  GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  165 

ing  and  thunder.  It  makes  forgiveness  precious  when 
we  know  that  it  comes  from  One  who  pardons  at  his 
own  expense,  and  saves  by  his  own  sacrifice.  And 
there  is  no  hope  for  the  man  who  is  not  melted  into 
penitence  and  thankfulness  when  he  sees  that  infinite 
patience  and  unutterable  love  alone  are  saving  him 
from  the  lightnings  and  thunders  of  wrath. 

The  lightning  shows  us  how  completely  and  help- 
lessly we  are  in  God's  hand  every  moment.  It  does 
not  strike  often  enough  to  keep  us  in  perpetual  terror. 
It  never  leaves  us  to  the  full  assurance  that  we  are  per- 
fectly safe  when  we  hear  the  voice  of  God's  thunder  in 
the  heavens.  No  science  or  invention  of  man  has 
found  a  perfect  safeguard  against  the  stroke  of  the 
fiery  bolt. 

The  dark  magazine  of  the  rain-cloud  comes  thun- 
dering up  the  sky  on  a  sultry  summer's  afternoon. 
The  warning  peal  waxes  louder  and  more  frequent, 
and  the  lightning  flames  with  a  more  vivid  flash,  as  the 
solemn  march  of  the  gathering  hosts  moves  on.  The 
air  is  still.  The  foliage  hangs  motionless  on  the  trees. 
The  grazing  cattle  lift  up  their  heads  and  look  with 
mute  and  bewildered  gaze  upon  the  coming  storm. 
The  birds  wheel  in  wild  circles  through  the  air,  or  hie 
to  the  shelter  of  their  nests.  All  Nature  stands  in 
silent  and  awful  expectation.  At  last  the  clouds  shut 
out  the  sun.  Suddenly  the  wind  rises  with  a  roaring, 
rushing  sound  in  the  distance.  The  black  battalions 
that  fly  before  the  crystalline  columns  of  the  white  rain 


166  LIGHTNINGS-GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

sweep  around  the  horizon  to  the  right  and  the  left,  and 
charge  up  the  steep  ascent  to  the  zenith.  Then,  with 
one  blinding  flash,  one  terrific  and  stunning  peal,  the 
torrents  descend  and  the  whole  air  is  darkened  with 
the  falling  flood. 

Thus  in  one  brief  hour  the  clear  blue  plain  of  the 
sky  is  darkened  with  the  smoke  of  clouds,  and  swept 
by  the  impetuous  charge  of  fighting  winds,  and  the 
earth  is  shaken  with  the  peal  of  mighty  thunders ;  and 
we  can  only  look  on  as  passive  witnesses  and  wait  till 
the  contending  elements  have  exhausted  themselves 
with  their  own  raging.  Thus  are  we  made  to  see  what 
helpless  creatures  we  are  in  the  presence  of  those  great 
and  mighty  forces  of  Nature  which  God  holds  in  his 
own  hand.  The  storm  does  not  come  at  our  bidding, 
and  we  cannot  send  it  away.  The  shaft  of  fire  which 
we  see  from  our  windows,  descending  with  frequent 
and  fearful  crash,  may  fall  on  us  at  any  moment,  and 
we  cannot  avert  the  stroke.  Sometimes  it  strikes  the 
most  secure  and  spares  the  most  exposed.  Sometimes, 
of  two  friends  standing  side  by  side — as  happened  in 
the  case  of  Martin  Luther — one  is  taken  and  the  other 
left. 

On  a  sultry  summer's  afternoon  I  was  writing  at  my 
desk  in  my  study,  as  I  am  now.  Across  the  street,  two  or 
three  doors  off,  was  an  open  window,  and  before  it,  in 
the  chamber,  two  boys  playing.  As  the  sun  went  down 
a  dark  cloud  was  seen  forming  swiftly  in  the  west.  It 
spread  out  its  black  wings  northward  and  southward, 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  167 

like  some  mighty  bird  of  prey,  and  sailed  silently  up 
the  evening  sky.  Suddenly  there  came  a  rush  of  wind 
from  the  north-west,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  whole 
heavens  were  black  with  careering  clouds.  A  dash  of 
rain  followed,  then  a  blaze  of  lightning  and  a  solitary 
peal  of  thunder,  so  quick  and  condensed  that  it  seemed 
like  the  flash  and  report  of  a  cannon.  And  when  the 
peal  died  away  one  of  the  two  boys,  who  had  ceased 
from  their  play  to  look  forth  from  the  open  window 
upon  the  wild  clouds,  was  lying  dead  upon  the  floor  of 
the  chamber,  and  the  other  was  standing  unharmed  by 
his  side.  That  black  cloud,  as  it  came  up  the  sky, 
brought  a  single  thunderbolt  in  its  bosom.  There  was 
a  whole  city  of  towers  and  steeples  and  roofs  and 
chimney-tops  for  the  one  solitary  bolt  to  strike.  But 
it  passed  them  all,  and  shot  down  with  fatal  precision 
upon  the  head  of  that  one  boy.  In  a  half  hour  the 
setting  sun  shone  out  beneath  the  lifted  cloud;  the 
rainbow  hung  its  arch  of  peace  and  beauty  upon  the 
path  of  its  departure ;  the  world  looked  brighter  than 
it  did  before  to  all  in  that  city  save  the  one  family 
that  were  weeping  in  terror  and  agony  over  their  dead 
child.  So  does  the  lightning  write  out  with  its  finger 
of  flame  the  repeated  lesson  of  the  divine  word — In 
God's  hand  is  the  soul  of  every  living  thing  and  the 
breath  of  all  mankind.  So  does  the  crashing  thunder- 
bolt verify  the  words  of  the  gentle  and  compassionate 
Jesus— One  shall  be  taken  and  the  other  left. 

The  angel  of  death  enters  a  silent  street  at  midnight 


168  LIGHTNINGS- GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

In  one  house  is  an  old  man  weighed  down  with  years 
and  infirmity,  and  he  is  wondering  why  he  has  been 
left  to  live  so  long,  to  be  a  burden  to  himself  and 
others.  But  the  angel  of  death  passes  that  door  with- 
out entering.  In  another  house  a  pale  and  emaciated 
victim  of  incurable  disease  is  writhing  with  pain  and 
panting  for  breath,  praying  in  agony  that  every  hour 
may  be  the  last.  The  angel  of  death  looks  in  at  the  cur- 
tained window  and  only  says,  "  Not  yet,"  and  passes  on. 
In  another  house  an  intoxicated  husband  and  father 
has  just  come  home  from  the  scene  of  midnight  revelry. 
And  he  is  wreaking  his  violence  and  blasphemy  upon 
his  weeping  wife  and  his  terrified  children.  It  would 
be  a  relief  to  that  family  if  the  angel  of  death  would 
touch  that  miserable  monster  with  his  cold  finger  and 
say,  "  Come  with  me."  The  world  would  be  purer 
and  happier  when  he  is  gone.  But  the  dread  mes- 
senger passes  silently  on,  leaving  the  wicked  to  live 
and  the  innocent  to  suffer.  In  another  house  is  a 
wretched  creature  who  has  fallen  so  low  in  sin  and 
shame  as  to  choose  death  rather  than  life.  She  has 
taken  the  oblivious  draught,  that  she  may  sleep  this 
night  and  wake  no  more.  And  now  she  is  rousing 
slowly  to  the  consciousness  that  the  vain  attempt  has 
only  added  to  her  misery.  But  the  angel  of  death 
enters  not  that  chamber  where  his  presence  has  been 
sought  and  the  return  of  life  is  the  renewal  of  sorrow. 
In  another  chamber,  sleeping  calmly  as  if  kept  by 
guardian  angels,  is  a  fair  and  healthful  child,  the  joy 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS  169 

arid  hope  of  a  widowed  mother's  heart — a  child  whose 
voice  of  gladness  rings  like  the  song  of  birds  through 
the  house  all  day;  a  child  that  has  been  watched  and 
guarded  and  gratified  with  idolizing  affection  all  its 
life.  And  the  angel  of  death  touches  the  cherub  brow 
of  that  little  one  and  says,  "  This  child  is  mine."  And 
when  the  morning  comes  it  brings  no  light  to  the  sad 
chamber  where  a  mother  sits  stunned  and  distracted, 
gazing  upon  the  still  face  of  the  dead.  The  little  child, 
so  loved,  so  full  of  hope  and  joy,  is  taken,  and  so  many 
others  who  loathe  life  and  deserve  to  die  are  left.  So 
God's  silent  providence  teaches  the  same  lesson  which 
the  crashing  thunderbolt  hurls  from  the  clouds,  the 
same  warning  which  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  utters, 
"  Be  ye  also  ready,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not, 
the  Son  of  man  cometh."  True  faith  and  filial  affec- 
tion will  be  ever  ready  to  say  when  the  thunder  rolls, 
"  It  is  the  voice  of  my  Father.  Let  him  speak  in  the 
storm  or  in  the  still  small  voice ;  his  child  shall  ever  be 
glad  to  hear." 

The  lightning  is  the  symbol  of  the  sovereign  Will> 
both  in  blessing  and  in  affliction.  Sometimes  the  daz- 
zling flash  gives  sight  to  the  blind  and  takes  away 
sight  from  those  who  can  see.  Sometimes  it  gives 
speech  to  the  dumb  and  hearing  to  the  deaf,  and  again 
it  takes  away  the  faculty  from  those  who  can  both 
speak  and  hear.  It  restores  the  withered  arm  to  life, 
and  it  strikes  the  whole  frame  with  the  paralysis  of 
death.  It  kills  the  bird  on  the  wing,  the  wild  beast  in 


170  LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

the  forest  and  the  fish  in  the  waters.  It  hastens  the 
growth  of  the  seed  that  is  buried  in  the  earth,  and  it 
destroys  the  life  of  the  tree  that  has  been  growing  for 
ages.  It  smites  the  mother  with  death  while  she  folds 
her  child  to  her  bosom  for  protection,  and  it  leaves  the 
infant  unhurt  in  her  arms.  It  falls  on  the  roof  of  the 
house  from  above;  it  shoots  up  from  the  cellar  be- 
neath; it  dashes  through  both  walls  like  a  cannon-shot 
from  side  to  side.  It  touches  the  tallest  branch  of  the 
mountain  pine  with  its  fiery  finger,  and  the  tree  never 
puts  forth  a  green  leaf  again. 

And  this  mysterious  agency,  this  mighty  minister 
of  life  and  death,  is  not  alone  in  the  storm  that  darkens 
the  heavens  with  its  clouds  and  shakes  the  earth  with 
its  thunders.  It  is  over  us  and  around  us  and  beneath 
us  and  within  us  every  moment.  It  lives  in  the  blade 
of  grass.  It  shines  in  the  drop  of  dew.  It  descends 
in  the  falling  rain.  It  gives  the  starry  form  to  the 
snow-flake  and  the  streaming  light  to  the  aurora.  It 
girdles  the  land  and  the  sea  and  the  mountains  with 
unseen  currents  of  rapid  motion  and  resistless  power. 
It  lives  in  all  life,  it  moves  in  all  motion,  it  dwells  in 
all  space.  It  thrills  in  sympathy  with  living  organs 
in  all  thought  and  feeling.  It  telegraphs  between 
mind  and  matter  in  all  mental  action.  The  working 
brain  must  feel  the  touch  of  its  subtle  power,  or  it  will 
cease  to  kindle  into  flame  the  thoughts  that  thunder 
forth  in  speech  or  burn  along  the  living  page. 

With  all  oui'  skill  and  practice  in  insulation  we  can- 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  171 

not  imprison  this  subtle  power  so  closely  as  to  prevent 
all  escape.  We  cannot  compel  it  to  travel  alone  upon 
our  lines.  We  can  master  only  the  smallest  fraction 
of  its  power.  The  chained  messenger  that  goes  obe- 
diently upon  our  errands  in  the  calm,  throws  off  its 
fetters  and  breaks  away  from  all  our  lines  and  batteries 
when  the  invisible  armies  of  electric  power  come  out 
for  a  great  field-day,  shouting  unto  each  other  in  thun- 
dering voices,  and  sweeping  in  stormy  waves  through 
the  troubled  air  from  continent  to  continent. 

And  this  mysterious  and  unmasterable  power,  call  it 
by  what  name  we  may,  should  certainly  teach  us  how 
utterly  dependent  we  are  upon  the  greater  power  of 
Him  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being. 
When  the  lightning  leaps  from  the  cloud,  and  strikes 
a  living  man  to  the  earth  in  the  presence  of  many 
others,  every  one  feels  awed  and  subdued  as  in  the 
presence  of  the  infinite  God.  And  yet  the  power 
which  strikes  the  living  man  to  the  earth  in  a  thunder- 
storm is  slumbering  in  every  breath  of  air  we  breathe. 
It  flows  in  every  vein  with  our  life-blood.  It  follows 
the  course  of  every  nerve  in  all  our  sensations  of  pain 
and  pleasure.  It  pervades  every  particle  of  our  bodies 
and  comes  into  contact  with  every  faculty  of  our  mind. 
Should  not  that  power  tell  us  by  its  silent  and  salutary 
presence,  as  well  as  by  its  thunder-crash,  that  God  is 
everywhere  ? 

When  Moses  heard  the  voice  of  Jehovah  speaking 
from  the  flame  of  the  burning  bush,  he  hid  his  face,  for 


172  LIGHTNINGS—GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

he  was  afraid  to  look  upon  God.  When  the  keepers 
of  the  tomb  of  Christ  saw  the  face  of  the  angel  of  the 
resurrection  shining  like  lightning,  they  trembled  and 
became  as  dead  men,  because  they  thought  themselves 
to  be  in  the  presence  of  the  infinite  God.  Everything 
we  see  is  so  full  of  electric  force  that  it  can  be  made  to 
yield  a  spark  of  fire  to  our  touch.  In  the  frosty  air  of 
a  winter's  day  we  can  send  out  sparks  that  shall  kindle 
a  flame  from  our  own  fingers,  and  yet  ourselves  not  feel 
the  heat  of  the  fire  with  which  our  whole  frame  is 
charged.  The  ancient  Hebrews  called  it  the  fire  of 
God  when  they  saw  it  descending  from  the  cloud. 
Should  not  that  mystic  flame  make  us  feel  the  presence 
of  Him  whose  voice  Moses  heard  in  the  fire  of  the 
burning  bush  ? 

I  have  stood  beside  the  telegraphic  operator  while 
he  made  a  signal  and  received  an  answer  over  seven 
hundred  miles  of  country,  and  the  answer  followed  the 
question  in  the  shortest  time  that  I  can  make  one  blow 
follow  another  with  my  hand.  I  was  filled  with  awe 
by  the  simple  experiment,  for  it  made  we  feel  that  I 
was  in  the  presence  of  an  unseen  power  that  pervades 
all  nature  and  surpasses  all  comprehension.  It  helped 
me  to  see  a  little  more  clearly  that  I  myself  live  and 
move  and  have  my  being  in  Him  from  whom  all  power 
comes,  from  whose  presence  none  can  flee.  It  helped 
me  to  see  that  everything  in  the  universe  may  be  bound 
together  by  so  many  strong  and  secret  bonds  as  to  be 
but  one  thought  to  the  infinite  Mind.  The  wave  of 


LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS.  173 

electric  force  which  I  start  with  one  stroke  of  my  hand 
may  extend  around  the  earth  and  beyond  the  sun  and 
stars. 

The  compassions  of  the  infinite  God,  which  are 
poured  forth  for  my  comfort  and  protection,  may  touch 
the  hearts  of  beings  in  millions  of  worlds  and  carry 
waves  of  blessing  to  the  farthest  bounds  of  creation.  The 
universe,  with  all  its  worlds,  is  the  work  of  one  Mind, 
and  that  Mind  is  God.  The  life  and  support  of  all  crea- 
.tures  flow  from  one  fountain,  and  that  fountain  is  the 
love  of  God.  The  sum  of  all  duty  and  the  source  of  all 
happiness  is  obedience  to  one  law,  and  that  law  is  the 
will  of  God.  Everything  in  the  word  of  revelation 
and  everything  in  the  works  of  nature  conspire  to  tell 
us  that  God  is  all  and  in  all.  The  greatest,  wisest, 
purest,  happiest  man  is  he  who  sees  most  of  God  and 
walks  most  closely  with  him  in  the  daily  paths  of  life. 

This  mysterious  power,  which  sleeps  in  the  still  air 
and  thunders  in  the  dark  cloud,  is  a  beneficent  power. 
Its  office  is  to  preserve  life,  not  to  kill.  Where  it  de- 
stroys one  it  saves  a  million.  It  flows  in  harmless  and 
healthful  currents  through  all  living  bodies,  and  only 
in  here  and  there  an  instance  does  it  rend  and  destroy 
the  receptacle  of  life.  It  does  no  injury  to  bodies  that 
welcome  its  coming.  It  blasts  and  burns  only  when 
resisted.  The  slender  blade  of  grass,  the  pointed 
spires  of  the  bearded  grain,  the  trembling  leaf,  the 
delicate  tendril  of  the  vine,  draw  the  lightning  from 
the  cloud  silently  and  safely,  while  the  solid  rock  is 


174  LIGHTNINGS— GOD'S  MESSENGERS. 

rent  with  a  crash  and  the  loftiest  monument  of  man's 
pride  is  leveled  with  the  dust. 

God's  providences  are  all  beneficent  to  those  who 
welcome  their  coming.  They  speak  in  wrath  only  to 
those  who  resist  and  disobey.  God^s  word  is  all  full 
of  kindness  and  compassion  to  those  who  long  for  his 
favor.  It  speaks  in  threatening  and  indignation  only 
to  the  heedless  and  rebellious.  When  Christ  spoke 
the  healing  word  in  behalf  of  the  afflicted,  they  were 
sometimes  cast  down  and  torn  with  a  greater  torture. 
The  new  life  flowing  into  the  paralyzed  limb  restored, 
first  of  all,  the  lost  capacity  for  pain.  But  it  was  life 
nevertheless.  And  so,  when  Christ  calls  the  wayward 
and  disobedient  to  a  purer  and  happier  life,  the  first 
signs  of  compliance  with  that  call  are  apt  to  be  tears 
of  penitence  and  expressions  of  sorrow.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  a  better  and  a  blessed  life  that  they  thus  begin. 
All  of  God's  messages  are  love  to  the  loving  heart. 
When  the  Divine  Spirit  strives  with  the  resisting  and 
the  disobedient,  they  are  troubled  and  agitated,  and 
sharp  arrows  of  conviction  sink  deep  into  their  hearts. 
When  the  same  Divine  Spirit  comes  to  the  humble  and 
penitent,  he  is  a  messenger  of  peace — he  gives  rest  to 
the  weary  soul.  To  those  who  love  and  long  for  the 
Holy  Comforter  his  coming  is  like  the  descent  of  the 
gentle  dew  upon  the  springing  grass  and  the  silent 
light  upon  the  opening  flower. 


fifth 


There  be  four  things  which,  are  little  tipon  the  earth,  but  they  are  exceeding 
wise. — PROV.  xxx.  24. 


VIII. 

LITTLE   THINGS. 

HE  ancient  sage  was  safe  in  saying  that  "  There 
be  four  things  which  are  little  upon  the  earth, 
yet  exceeding  wise."  If  he  had  lived  in  our 
time,  he  might  have  multiplied  the  four  by  fifty 
thousand,  and  yet  the  saying  would  have  fallen  within 
the  limits  of  human  knowledge.  The  world  has  made 
great  progress  in  three  thousand  years.  And  still  the 
wisest  of  men  have  much  to  learn  from  the  little  things 
of  the  earth. 

The  research  of  modern  times  has  discovered  mil- 
lions of  living  creatures  so  small  that  the  unassisted 
eye  of  man  has  never  seen  them — the  sagacious  mind 
of  Solomon  and  the  masterly  genius  of  Aristotle  never 
suspected  their  existence.  And  the  more  we  know  of 
their  nature  and  habits,  the  more  we  wonder  at  the 
wisdom  and  power  which  God  has  conferred  upon  the 
little  things  of  earth.  If  we  compare  ourselves  with 
creatures  that  are  counted  a  pest  and  crushed  without  a 
thought,  we  shall  find  that  in  many  respects  they  have 
greatly  the  advantage  of  us.  The  sum  of  faculties* 
bestowed  upon  man  is  indeed  immensely  greater;  and 

yet  in  some  one  particular  he  may  be  surpassed  by  the 

L  m 


178  LITTLE  THINGS. 

least  and  lowest  of  the  brute  creation.  He  has  all  the 
prerogatives  of  power  and  intellect  fitting  him  to  be 
crowned  with  glory  and  honor,  and  to  have  all  things 
put  under  his  feet — the  beast  of  the  field,  the  fowl  of 
the  air  and  the  fish  of  the  sea.  And  yet  he  may  see 
much  to  excite  his  wonder  and  admiration  in  the  worm 
of  the  dust  and  the  insect  of  a  day. 

If  we  could  move  through  the  air  with  as  great 
relative  speed  as  the  common  house-fly,  we  could  cross 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  return  in  the  time  that  we 
spend  at  our  breakfast-table  every  morning.  Look  out 
of  a  railway  car  when  it  is  in  the  most  rapid  motion  on 
a  summer's  day,  and  you  will  see  winged  creatures 
sporting  in  the  air,  moving  up  and  down,  backward 
and  forward,  keeping  abreast  of  you  all  the  while,  just 
as  if  the  car  were  standing  still.  The  speed  of  sixty 
miles  an  hour  counts  for  nothing  with  the  little  crea- 
ture that  plays  at  the  window,  apparently  without 
making  an  extra  stroke  of  the  wing  to  keep  up  with 
the  flying  train. 

If  we  could  walk  on  the  earth  at  as  rapid  a  relative 
gait,  or  change  our  position  with  as  great  agility,  as 
insects  that  we  hate  and  crush  whenever  we  find  them, 
we  could  spring  to  the  top  of  the  tallest  steeple  at  a 
single  bound — we  could  make  the  fable  of  the  giant 
taking  a  fifth  of  a  mile  at  a  step  more  a  reality  than  a 
fiction.  If  we  could  build  ships  that  would  carry  us 
at  as  great  a  comparative  speed  as  the  boat-fly  skims 
the  surface  of  the  water,  we  could  leave  our  homes  at 


LITTLE  THINGS.  179 

noon,  pass  around  the  whole  circumference  of  the 
earth,  and  return  with  the  meridian  sun  directly  above 
us  all  the  way.  Our  progress  would  keep  pace  with 
the  movement  of  the  day,  and  we  should  only  need  to 
keep  going  to  experience  a  literal  fulfillment  of  the 
promise,  "  Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down."  If  our 
houses  of  worship  were  as  large  and  strong  in  propor- 
tion to  the  size  of  the  builders  as  the  structures  reared 
by  the  termites  in  Africa,  we  should  be  covered  by 
domes  rising  five  thousand  feet  above  our  heads,  we 
should  pass  4n  and  out  through  doors  and  arches  four 
times  higher  than  the  highest  church-spire  in  city  or 
country,  and  our  roofs  would  be  strong  enough  to  sup- 
port the  weight  of  a  million  men. 

If  we  grew  as  fast  from  birth  as  the  silkworm,  we 
should  equal  the  size  of  the  elephant  in  a  month,  and 
we  should  devour  food  enough  to  support  an  army  of 
three  thousand  men.  If  our  organs  of  vision  were  only 
as  numerous  and  complex  as  those  of  the  butterfly,  we 
should  have  sixty  thousand  perfect  eyes  set  in  our 
brows  to  catch  every  hue  and  form  of  the  view  before 
us,  and  an  extra  pair  to  serve  as  watch-towers  on  the 
top  of  the  head.  If  our  vocal  organs  were  as  strong 
proportionally  as  those  of  the  canary  bird,  we  could 
make  ourselves  heard  farther  than  the  cannonade  of 
Gettysburg  or  Waterloo  without  straining  our  voices. 
If  our  bodies  were  as  well  protected  against  violence 
as  those  of  some  creatures  no  bigger  than  a  pin's  head, 
we  could  stand  all  the  cannon-shot  in  the  world,  and 


180  LITTLE   THINGS. 

mind  it  as  little  as  we  now  mind  the  smallest  particle 
of  dust  that  is  blown  in  our  faces  by  the  wind. 

I  run  over  these  comparative  estimates  simply  to 
show  that  the  infinite  God  has  not  gone  to  the  extent 
of  his  power  in  making  us  the  creatures  that  we  are. 
We  have  only  to  examine  the  little  things  of  earth  to 
learn  that  he  has  bestowed  on  them  some  one  form  of 
intelligence  or  power  vastly  superior  to  the  corre- 
sponding faculty  bestowed  on  us.  The  sum  of  God's 
gifts  to  man  in  his  whole  spiritual  and  immortal  nature 
is  indeed  infinitely  greater  than  all  bestowed  upon  the 
brute.  But  he  has  endowed  the  smallest  creatures 
with  some  one  faculty  in  greater  measure,  to  show  us 
how  easily  he  could  increase  our  capacities  for  action 
and  enjoyment  a  thousand-fold,  and  not  do  anything 
more  difficult  for  him  or  wonderful  to  us  than  he  is 
doing  all  around  us  every  day. 

The  vulture  scents  its  food,  the  eagle  sees  its  prey, 
the  bee  builds  its  cell,  the  spider  spins  its  web,  the 
swallow  seeks  its  home,  with  an  accuracy  which  would 
be  nothing  less  than  miraculous  in  man.  God  has 
bestowed,  in  separate  gifts,  upon  the  smallest  creatures 
a  degree  of  power  and  intelligence  and  activity  which, 
if  combined  in  one  and  given  to  man,  would  enable 
him  to  hurl  the  mountains  into  the  sea  and  shake  the 
foundations  of  the  earth.  These  present  limitations 
of  our  faculties  are  evidently  designed  to  guard  against 
abuse.  If  our  present  faculties  were  suddenly  en- 
larged, and  our  command  over  the  elements  of  nature 


LITTLE   THINGS.  181 

wore  proportionally  increased,  we  should  be  like  chil- 
dren playing  with  fire  without  knowing  its  quick 
and  terrible  power.  Our  Father  is  too  wise  and  kind 
to  give  us  faculties  which  we  should  only  use  in 
destroying  ourselves. 

When  the  spirits  of  the  just  have  been  made  perfect, 
it  will  be  safe  and  easy  for  the  Giver  of  all  gifts  to 
enlarge  their  capacities  a  thousand-fold.  They  may 
then  be  made  like  the  cherubim,  full  of  eyes  to  survey 
the  universe  with  an  all-pervading  vision.  They  may 
move  with  the  speed  of  the  lightning  in  any  direction 
and  to  any  distance  they  please  and  nothing  have 
power  to  oppose  their  progress.  They  may  be  able  to 
work  without  weariness  and  without  rest,  and  always 
find  pleasant  and  profitable  work  to  do.  They  may  be 
so  perfectly  guarded  against  accident  and  injury  that 
neither  fire  nor  flood  nor  force  of  any  kind  can  hurt 
them.  Knowledge  may  come  to  them  as  easily  as  it 
came  to  Adam  in  Paradise — as  easily  as  instinct  comes 
to  the  bird  and  the  bee. 

All  this  wondrous  enlargement  of  faculty  may  God 
bestow  upon  man  in  the  new  heavens  and  the  new 
earth.  And  the  extraordinary  gifts  which  he  has 
already  bestowed  upon  the  little  things  of  the  earth 
lead  us  to  expect  that  he  will  give  more  and  greater 
to  his  redeemed  and  immortal  children.  He  who  gives 
a  small  insect  power  to  fly  over  a  thousand  miles  of 
ocean  without  resting,  can  surely  give  the  soul  of  man 
power  to  pass  from  world  to  world  with  the  speed  of 


182  LITTLE  THINGS. 

liglit  and  with  a  wing  that  never  tires.  He  who  forms 
fifty  thousand  perfect  eyes  for  the  use  of  a  creature 
that  lives  and  dies  in  a  day,  may  surely  give  more  than 
five  senses  to  that  spiritual  body  which  shall  never 
die. 

The  Bible  says,  Eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  uot 
heard,  heart  hath  not  conceived  the  greatness  and  the 
glory  of  the  home  which  God  hath  prepared  for  those 
that  love  him.  But  let  our  present  faculty  of  vision 
be  enlarged  fifty  thousand-fold ;  let  our  ears  be  opened 
to  take  in  the  divine  harmonies  that  roll  through  the 
eternal  space  from  world  to  world ;  let  our  minds  be 
gifted  with  angelic  power  to  wander  through  immen- 
sity, where  height  and  depth  are  lost  in  the  infinite 
blaze  of  careering  suns,  and  then  the  little  world  in 
which  we  now  live,  with  all  its  fields  of  glory  and 
parade  of  power,  will  seem  like  a  half-forgotten  dream 
when  the  night  is  past.  This  earth,  which  we  now 
tread  upon,  and  which  seems  so  great  with  its  voiceful 
seas  and  eternal  mountains,  will  seem  like  a  single 
mote  in  the  sunbeam  when  we  have  the  eye  to  see  and 
the  mind  to  measure  the  immensities  of  creation.  The 
happiest  hour  of  this  earthly  life  will  be  remembered 
as  the  faint  gleam  of  a  falling  star  amid  the  splendors 
of  that  day  to  which  there  shall  be  no  night.  And  all 
the  mystic  power  and  hidden  wisdom  of  these  little 
things  of  earth  are  appointed  to  raise  our  hearts  and 
hopes  to  that  glorious  state  when  the  perfect  shall  come 
and  the  partial  shall  be  done  away. 


LITTLE  THINGS.  183 

It  is  the  little  things  of  earth  that  impress  us  most 
with  the  great  power  of  God.  When  we  look  up  to 
the  starry  heavens,  when  we  wander  among  the  soli- 
tudes of  snow-clad  mountains,  when  we  survey  the  vast 
and  melancholy  sea,  we  feel  ourselves  to  be  standing  in 
the  presence  of  the  Infinite.  We  are  awed  and  elevated 
by  sensible  contact  with  the  mighty  workmanship  of 
the  eternal  Mind.  But  in  that  case  we  are  prepared 
for  the  emotions  which  we  experience.  We  expect 
to  be  moved  because  we  have  designedly  presented 
ourselves  in  the  holy  place,  where  Divine  Power  en- 
thrones itself  in  the  height  and  depth  of  its  great 
works. 

But  we  have  no  such  preparation  of  mind  and  heart 
for  the  contemplation  of  the  Infinite  when  we  seek  it 
in  the  little  things  of  the  earth.  We  are  startled  and 
confounded  when  we  see  what  unconquerable  energy, 
what  mysterious  intelligence,  what  resistless  power, 
what  invulnerable  life  God  has  conferred  upon  things 
&o  small  that  it  has  taken  the  keenest  science  and  the 
mightiest  instruments  to  discover  their  existence.  And 
some  of  these  little  things,  that  were  large  enough  to  be 
named  in  the  meagre  science  of  Solomon,  are  described 
in  the  prophetic  word  with  every  expression  of  power 
and  sublimity.  When  they  are  sent  forth  in  great 
numbers  as  a  scourge  upon  the  earth,  they  become 
more  resistless  and  terrible  to  man  than  the  earth- 
quake, the  pestilence  or  the  storm. 

"  The  locusts,"  says  the  wise  man,  "  have  no  king,  yet 


154  LITTLE  THINGS. 

go  they  forth  all  of  them  by  bands."  They  form  in  com- 
pact ranks,  like  the  battalions  of  a  disciplined  army,  and 
they  march  at  the  command  of  a  divine  and  mysterious 
will.  One  spirit  rules  through  the  mighty  hosts,  and 
they  come  in  numbers  without  number — countless  as 
the  snow-flakes  and  dark  as  the  clouds.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  imagine  the  greatness  of  the  multitude.  The 
advancing  column  has  been  known  to  be  five  hundred 
miles  in  length.  In  one  instance  a  traveler  directed 
his  course  across  their  line  of  motion,  and  he  rode  forty 
miles  before  he  reached  the  edge  of  the  living  stream. 
When  they  travel  on  the  earth  they  cover  everything 
as  completely  as  the  deep  river  fills  its  bed.  When 
they  fly  in  the  air  they  darken  the  sun,  and  the  sound 
of  their  wings  is  as  the  sound  of  many  waters.  No 
green  thing  is  left  in  the  path  of  their  march,  and  the 
earth  behind  them  is  scorched  and  burnt  as  if  it  had 
been  swept  by  devouring  fire.  At  morn  the  peasant 
looks  forth  from  his  cottage  door  upon  cultivated  fields 
and  laden  orchards  and  blooming  gardens.  At  noon 
the  army  of  locusts  has  passed,  and  there  is  not  a 
flower  or  green  leaf  or  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  seen  in 
the  whole  landscape.  The  desolation  produced  by 
armies  is  nothing  compared  to  the  ravages  of  locusts. 
Famine  and  pestilence  follow  their  march.  The  hearts 
of  men  are  hardened  with  hunger.  The  dead  lie  un- 
buried  in  their  own  houses,  and  the  living  devour  each 
other  in  their  madness  and  misery. 

The  Arabs  of  ancient  and  modern  times  ascribe  to 


LITTLE  THINGS.  185 

these  little  creatures  the  terror  and  power  of  the  strongest 
beasts  of  the  earth.  They  say  they  have  the  face  of  a 
horse,  the  eyes  of  an  elephant,  the  neck  of  a  bull,  the 
horns  of  a  deer,  the  chest  of  a  lion,  the  belly  of  a  scor- 
pion, the  wings  of  an  eagle,  the  thighs  of  a  camel,  the 
feet  of  an  ostrich  and  the  tail  of  a  serpent.  The 
prophet  Joel  says  they  have  the  teeth  of  lions,  the 
appearance  of  horsemen  and  of  strong  people  set  in 
battle  array.  They  run  like  mighty  men,  and  their 
march  is  like  the  noise  of  chariots  upon  the  mountains. 
The  earth  quakes  before  them,  the  heavens  tremble, 
the  sun  and  moon  are  darkened  and  the  stars  withdraw 
their  shining. 

When  they  appear  advancing  by  millions  of  millions 
it  seems  as  if  the  dust  of  the  earth  had  been  made  all 
alive.  There  is  no  escape  from  the  moving  column. 
"  It  is  terrific,  irresistible,  universal,  overwhelming — 
penetrating  everywhere,  overspreading  all  things,  ex- 
cluded by  nothing."  The  Emperor  Alexander  of  Rus- 
sia once  sent  out  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men  in  the 
\ain  effort  to  stop  their  progress.  They  sweep  across 
the  plain  and  flow  up  the  mountain  side  and  descend 
the  steep  like  a  cataract.  They  roll  over  rocks  and 
walls,  houses  and  hedges,  filling  up  the  trenches  that 
have  been  dug  and  putting  out  the  fires  that  have  been 
kindled  to  stop  them.  They  enter  windows  and  doors 
and  chimneys,  covering  beds  and  tables  and  furniture, 
filling  all  wells  and  springs  and  fountains  of  water. 
They  descend  into  the  deepest  valleys.  They  flow  over 


186  LITTLE  THINGS. 

mountains  fourteen  thousand  feet  high.  They  defy 
alike  sword  and  spear  and  cannon.  They  pass  right 
through  the  ranks  of  armies.  They  plunder  the  camp 
of  the  conqueror  as  easily  as  the  garden  of  the  peasant. 
They  pass  over  city  walls,  they  penetrate  fortresses  and 
palaces  as  easily  as  they  traverse  the  open  plain.  They 
are  omnipresent,  like  the  pestilence ;  they  are  resistless, 
like  the  tornado ;  they  are  mysterious,  like  the  judg- 
ments of  God. 

And  these  little  things  of  the  earth  show  us  how 
minute  and  resistless  and  pervasive  is  the  power  which 
governs  the  world.  When  God  would  send  the  most 
terrible  scourge  upon  disobedient  nations,  he  does  not 
need  to  shake  the  heavens  with  mighty  thunders  or  to 
call  forth  fountains  and  cataracts  of  fire  from  the  bosom 
of  the  earth.  He  does  not  need  to  cast  the  mountains 
into  the  sea  or  cause  the  deep  to  overwhelm  the  land. 
He  need  only  breathe  upon  the  small  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  the  air  shall  be  darkened  and  the  earth 
shall  be  desolated  by  millions  of  millions  of  living 
creatures,  whose  march  no  force  or  skill  of  man  can 
stop,  whose  appetite  no  fruit  of  the  garden  or  field  or 
vineyard  can  satisfy.  The  smallest  and  most  contemp- 
tible creatures  become  terrible  and  resistless  in  the 
hands  of  Him  who  can  call  them  in  countless  myriads, 
and  command  them  to  carry  destruction  and  desolation 
wherever  they  go.  The  man  of  science  cannot  tell 
how  or  where  the  mighty  armies  are  raised.  The  man 
of  power  cannot  prevent  their  coming.  The  man  of 


LITTLE  THINGS.  187 

faith  can  only  submit  and  say,  This  is  the  finger  of 
God. 

And  there  are  little  things  of  earth  which  are  even 
more  mysterious  and  not  less  mighty.  Within  our 
memory  a  strange  blight  came  upon  a  single  plant  in 
Ireland,  and  the  wail  of  starving  millions  was  sent 
around  the  world.  And  yet  the  cause  of  that  terrible 
calamity  was  one  of  the  little  things  which  God  uses  in 
his  great  works.  It  was  so  minute,  so  mysterious,  that 
the  wisest  men,  by  long  and  deep  searching,  and  the 
most  philanthropic,  by  the  offer  of  great  reward,  have 
not  yet  found  out  its  nature  or  origin.  They  have  not 
yet  discovered  any  means  of  checking  its  ravages. 

The  rust,  the  mildew  and  the  weevil  are  among  the 
least  of  living  things  on  the  earth.  The  wisest  of  men 
know  little  of  their  nature.  And  yet  God  needs  no 
mightier  ministers  of  vengeance  to  destroy  the  food  of 
nations  and  make  millions  mourn.  A  living  dust 
forms  on  the  bearded  grain,  and  broad  fields  of  wheat 
yield  nothing  but  straw  and  stubble  in  the  time  of 
harvest.  A  little  fly  comes  out  of  the  earth  and  stings 
the  forming  fruit,  and  the  husbandman  cuts  down  his 
orchard  in  despair.  A  little  brown  creature,  whose 
body  is  no  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch  long,  goes 
out  to  sport  in  the  pine  forests  of  the  South;  and 
thousands  of  acres  of  trees,  as  goodly  as  the  cedars  of 
Lebanon,  are  changed  to  a  wilderness  of  lifeless  trunks 
and  leafless  branches. 

The  ocean  is  sometimes  red  and  green  and  yellow 


LITTLE  THINGS. 

over  many  miles  of  its  surface.  Sometimes  it  rises  and 
swells  in  waves  of  silvery  light,  as  if  the  whole  surface 
were  moulded  and  medallioned  in  fire.  Sometimes  the 
enow  in  Arctic  regions  is  crimsoned  with  the  hue  of 
blood,  as  if  it  had  been  made  the  battle-field  of 
nations.  And  the  color  and  the  light  in  all  these  cases 
comes  from  the  presence  of  countless  living  creatures, 
so  small  that  five  millions  could  march  abreast  in  a 
compact  line  along  a  street  of  moderate  breadth. 

And  it  is  by  the  toil  of  these  small  creatures  that 
God  is  ever  changing  and  rebuilding  the  earth.  The 
bottom  of  the  sea  is  their  burial-ground,  piled  so  high 
with  their  bodies  that  in  some  places  they  come  to  the 
surface  and  make  islands  for  trees  to  grow  upon  and 
living  men  to  gather  in  cities  and  kingdoms.  They 
have  built  up  a  breakwater  more  than  a  thousand  miles 
long  to  keep  the  sea  from  devouring  the  shore  of  Aus- 
tralia. No  skill  or  toil  of  man  could  have  raised  so 
strong  and  enduring  a  barrier  against  the  ceaseless 
onset  of  the  waves.  Whole  ranges  of  mountains  are 
made  of  the  skeletons  of  creatures  so  small  that  we 
need  the  highest  powers  of  the  microscope  to  see  any 
sign  of  organization  in  the  handful  of  dust  which  is 
nothing  but  millions  of  their  bodies.  The  fine  powder 
of  polishing  slate  is  nothing  but  the  unbroken  and 
perfectly-formed  shells  of  once  living  creatures,  so 
small  that  forty  thousand  millions  are  contained  in  a 
cubic  inch  of  the  stone.  The  city  of  Richmond  is  built 
upon  a  bed  of  flinty  marl,  the  whole  mass  of  which, 


LITTLE  THINGS.  189 

twenty-five  feet  deep,  was  once  alive  with  cieatures  a 
thousandth  part  of  an  inch  in  length.  The  flint  that 
strikes  fire  on  the  face  of  steel  is  made  of  the  minute 
skeletons  of  creatures  that  once  lived  and  enjoyed  life 
as  we  live  and  move  to-day.  The  sand  of  the  great 
Sahara  in  Africa  is  an  ocean  of  fossil  shells  that  were 
once  inhabited  by  living  beings.  One  class  of  these 
living  creatures,  fully  endowed  with  all  the  organs  and 
faculties  of  perfect  animal  life,  is  so  small  that  eight 
millions  could  live  in  the  hollow  shell  of  a  grain  of 
mustard  seed. 

And  God  has  put  forth  the  most  wondrous  power 
and  wisdom  in  the  creation  of  these  living  things  with 
which  the  air,  the  earth  and  the  waters  are  filled.  He 
has  displayed  infinite  skill  in  making  creatures  so 
small  that  we  cannot  see  them  with  the  unassisted  eye ; 
so  numerous  that  we  cannot  conceive  their  number ;  so 
mighty  that  they  have  done  more  to  change  the  face 
of  the  earth  than  all  the  works  of  man  in  all  time.  It 
is  equally  impossible  to  find  out  God's  work  to  per- 
fection in  beings  so  small  that  millions  sport  in  the 
drop  of  water,  or  in  worlds  so  vast  that  they  fill  the 
universe  with  light.  And  in  this  minute  attention  to 
things  that  are  least  the  Divine  Architect  teaches  us 
the  great  secret  of  all  successful  work.  The  longest 
journey  is  a  succession  of  steps,  and  the  swiftest 
traveler  can  take  only  one  at  a  time.  The  strongest 
chain  is  made  up  of  separate  links.  If  the  workman 
has  failed  in  the  forging  of  one,  the  whole  is  easily 


190  LITTLE  THINGS. 

broken.  The  beautiful  structure  of  a  strong,  well- 
balanced,  symmetrical  character  is  built  out  of  indi- 
vidual acts  of  duty. 

As  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he.  No  one 
can  count  the  millions  of  thoughts  that  make  up  the 
unwritten  history  of  a  single  mind  for  a  single  day. 
And  yet  every  one  of  these  thoughts  has  'something  to 
do  in  making  the  man.  The  slightest  stain  left  upon 
the  surface  of  glass  by  the  evaporation  of  a  drop  of 
turbid  water  is  found  to  contain  minute  shells,  perfectly 
formed  and  once  inhabited  by  living  creatures.  The 
casual  thought  that  disappears  from  the  crystal  sur- 
face of  the  mind  as  the  dew-drop  vanishes  in  the  sun 
leaves  behind  a  perfect  impress  of  itself.  If  it  was 
pure  and  good,  the  man  is  better  for  having  cherished 
it  only  for  an  instant.  The  impress  which  it  made  will 
never  be  lost  to  the  Infinite  eye.  The  pulse  of  spiritual 
power  which  it  gave  will  do  something  to  make  the 
man  whole,  just  as  every  grain  of  sand  is  needed  to 
build  the  shore  and  every  drop  of  rain  to  fill  the  ocean. 

He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful 
in  much.  It  is  a  small  thing  to  give  a  cup  of  cold 
water  in  the  name  of  Christ.  But  whoever  is  faithful 
in  things  so  small  will  be  first  to  meet  the  demands  of 
duty  when  the  trial  is  great.  The  man  who  is  first  to 
speak  a  kind  word  to  a  friendless  child,  or  to  carry  a 
look  of  sunshine  into  an  afflicted  and  desolate  home, 
will  be  first  to  make  the  great  sacrifices  of  duty  when 
the  Master  calls.  The  King  in  the  final  day  will  say, 


LITTLE  THINGS.  191 

"  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father/7  to  those  who  have 
only  done  the  least  and  most  common  acts  of  kindness 
— to  those  who  have  only  done  what  anybody  can  do 
any  day  of  his  life. 

Depend  on  it,  my  friend,  it  is  minute  and  conscien- 
tious attention  to  what  the  world  calls  little  things  that 
makes  the  great  beauty  and  success  of  life.  Little 
deeds  of  charity,  little  words  of  kindness,  little  acts  of 
self-denial,  little  moments  of  diligence ;  a  careful  watch 
against  little  sins,  a  grateful  use  of  little  blessings,  a 
wise  improvement  of  little  opportunities,  a  diligent  cul- 
tivation of  little  talents,  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing under  little  encouragement, — these  things  make 
men  great  in  the  sight  of  God ;  if  these  things  be  in 
you  and  abound,  they  will  bring  the  knowledge  and 
enjoyment  of  everything  else. 

To  be  willing  to  give  thousands  to  the  cause  of 
Christ,  you  must  be  willing  to  give  such  as  you  have, 
be  it  ever  so  little.  If  you  would  compass  the  earth 
upon  missions  of  charity  and  instruction,  you  must 
begin  at  your  own  door ;  you  must  show  the  spirit  of 
Christ  to  those  of  your  own  household.  If  you  would 
set  up  the  kingdom  of  righteousness  in  all  nations,  you 
must  first  make  one  province  of  that  kingdom  in  your 
own  heart. 

God's  great  work  is  perfect  as  a  whole,  because  it  ia 
perfect  in  every  part.  He  makes  a  leaf  or  a  blade  of 
grass  with  as  much  care  as  he  makes  a  world.  He 
polishes  the  scaly  coat  of  the  smallest  insect  as  perfectly 


192  LITTLE  THINGS. 

as  he  feathers  the  wing  of  the  cloud-cleaving  eagle 
The  soul  of  the  little  child  that  believes  in  Jesus  is  as 
precious  in  his  sight  as  the  burning  seraph  in  the 
highest  heaven.  If  you  would  be  perfect,  even  as  your 
Father  in  heaven  is  perfect,  let  all  your  work  be  dono 
as  unto  him  and  in  his  sight.  Be  faithful  in  the  least 
as  well  as  in  the  greatest.  Consider  that  anything 
worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing  well.  Learn  to  speak 
the  little  words  of  truth,  to  do  the  little  deeds  of  kind- 
ness, to  scatter  the  little  gifts  of  love  along  the  lowly 
pathways  of  life.  And  so,  when  your  toil  is  done,  your 
life-work  shall  bear  fruit  in  heaven,  and  it  shall  be 
found  precious  before  God. 


m 


/  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud^  and  it  shall  be  for  a  token  of  a  covenant 
bet-ween  me  and  the  earth;  and  I  'will  look  upon  it,  that  I  may  remember 
the  everlasting  covenant  between  God  and  every  living  creature  of  all 
flesh  that  is  u$on  the  ear.th.-Gws.  ix.  13,  16. 


IX. 

GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

*OD  has  chosen  the  most  striking  and  beautiful 
objects  in  Nature  for  symbols  of  his  truth  and 
tokens  of  his  covenant  with  man.  He  makes 
the  symbol  attractive,  that  it  may  draw  our 
hearts  to  the  truth  which  it  represents.  He  makes 
the  token  beautiful,  that  we  may  look  upon  it  the  more 
gladly  and  remember  the  covenant  which  it  calls  to 
mind.  In  the  familiar  instructions  of  our  Lord  the 
beauty  of  the  flowers  and  the  happy  song  of  the  birds 
are  appointed  to  charm  away  our  worldly  anxieties  and 
to  teach  us  the  precious  lesson  of  trust  in  Divine  Provi- 
dence for  every  want. 

In  the  ancient  prophets  the  everlasting  mountains 
lift  their  rocky  summits  to  the  skies,  and  stand  un- 
changed through  the  lapse  of  years,  to  teach  us  that 
God's  kindness  shall  not  depart  nor  the  covenant  of 
his  peace  be  removed.  The  mighty  river  rolls  its  full 
and  swelling  tide  through  the  long  reach  of  land  from 
the  source  to  the  sea,  to  teach  us  how  deep  and  strong, 
and  ever  growing  in  depth  and  strength,  shall  be  the 
peace  of  those  who  keep  God's  commandments.  The 

195 


GOD'S  BOW  IX  THE  CLOUD. 

stars  come  forth  in  eternal  beauty  upon  the  p.ains  of 
heaven,  to  show  us  the  brightness  with  which  the  right- 
eous shall  shine  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  The 
oldest  book  of  sacred  history  sets  before  us  the  same 
great  promise  written  out  as  wide  as  the  dome  of  the 
heavens  and  emblazoned  with  all  the  sevenfold  colors 
of  the  showery  arch.  According  to  that  inspired 
record,  the  bow  in  the  cloud  spans  the  pathway  of  the 
retiring  storm,  that  we  may  look  upon  it  as  the  sign 
and  seal  of  the  divine  promise  that  the  tempest  of 
wrath  shall  be  stayed  from  desolating  the  earth.  God 
himself  looks  upon  it  and  remembers  the  everlasting 
covenant  between  him  and  every  living  creature  of  all 
flesh. 

We  have  no  evidence  that  the  laws  of  Nature  were 
changed  after  the  deluge.  And  yet  it  is  possible  that 
the  family  of  Noah  had  never  seen  the  bow  in  the 
cloud  till  they  came  forth  from  the  ark.  It  is  said  in 
the  previous  record  that  a  mist  went  up  from  the  earth 
and  watered  the  whole  region  called  Eden,  but  as  yet 
the  Lord  God  had  not  caused  it  to  rain.  And  if  the 
soil  of  Paradise  had  been  watered  only  by  dew  and  by 
rivers  that  had  their  head  in  far-distant  mountains,  as 
is  the  case  with  Egypt  to  this  day,  then  Noah  and  his 
sons,  living  in  the  land  where  the  race  began,  might 
never  have  seen  the  bow  in  the  cloud  before  the  flood. 

But  when  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were 
broken  up  and  the  sea  rushed  in  upon  the  shore,  the 
ark  floated  away  from  the  rainless  land  of  the  patri- 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  197 

arch's  early  home  to  the  mountainous  region  of  Ararat, 
and  there  the  clouds  gathered  and  the  thunders  rolled 
and  the  torrents  of  rain  filled  the  air.  And  this  was 
still  so,  after  the  miraculous  and  avenging  tempest  of 
the  deluge  had  ceased.  But  when  the  fugitives  from 
the  flood  saw  the  commotion  in  the  elements  and  heard 
the  roar  of  rushing  torrents  among  the  hills,  they 
would  begin  to  fear  a  return  of  the  engulfing  tide  from 
the  distant  sea  and  another  descent  of  crushing  cata- 
racts from  the  open  windows  of  heaven.  And  to  calm 
their  rising  fears,  God  spake  to  Noah  and  his  sons,  say- 
ing, "  I  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud,  and  it  shall  be  for  a 
token  of  a  covenant  between  me  and  the  earth.  And 
it  shall  come  to  pass  when  I  bring  a  cloud  over  the 
earth  that  the  bow  shall  be  seen  in  the  cloud ;  and  I 
will  remember  my  covenant  which  is  between  me  and 
you,  and  the  waters  shall  no  more  become  a  flood  to  de- 
stroy all  flesh.  And  I  will  look  upon  the  bow  in  the 
cloud,  that  I  may  remember  the  everlasting  covenant 
between  me  and  every  living  creature." 

And  so  when  the  thunder  ceased  and  the  clouds 
broke  away  around  the  setting  sun,  the  patriarch  and 
his  family  looked  with  wonder  and  with  joy  upon  the 
sevenfold  arch  resting  upon  the  earth  and  reaching  to 
the  heavens.  And  whenever  afterward  they  saw  the 
bow  upon  the  cloud,  they  would  say,  God  himself  is 
looking  upon  that  sign,  and  he  sets  it  in  the  cloud  as 
the  seal  of  the  covenant  of  peace  between  him  and  us. 

Sometimes  friends  that  are  widely  separated   from 


198  GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

each  other  agree  at  a  particular  hour  of  the  evening  to 
look  up  to  the  same  star,  and  it  serves  to  strengthen 
and  perpetuate  the  bond  of  friendship  between  them, 
that  their  attention  is  directed  at  the  same  moment  to 
the  same  shining  point  in  the  sky.  And  so  when  we 
see  the  bow  in  the  cloud  we  can  think  that  God  him- 
self is  looking  at  the  same  token  of  his  covenant,  and 
he  will  remember  us  in  all  our  afflictions  and  perils,  as 
he  remembered  Noah.  Let  the  tempest  rage  and  all 
earthly  calamities  sweep  over  us  in  resistless  storm,  still 
we  can  hope  and  rejoice  if  God  will  hang  out  his  bow 
of  promise  and  of  peace  upon  the  cloud,  to  show  us  that 
he  is  thinking  of  us  and  that  our  deliverance  shall  come 
in  the  fullness  of  time. 

There  is  a  peculiar  tenderness  and  appropriateness 
in  the  condescension  of  the  infinite  Father  when  he 
says,  "  I  will  remember  thee."  He  can  never  forget 
anything.  And  it  is  only  because  he  remembers  us 
every  hour,  and  visits  us  with  his  mercies  every  mo- 
ment, that  life  is  a  blessing.  But  we  forget,  and  we 
think  it  a  very  hard  thing  to  be  forgotten.  Life  would 
have  little  left  for  us  to  desire  if  we  thought  that  there 
were  none  to  think  of  us  with  affection  and  gratitude. 
It  is  in  condescension  to  this  human  infirmity  of  for- 
getfulness,  and  the  intense  and  universal  passion  to  be 
remembered,  that  the  infinite  Jehovah  says  to  the 
fearful  and  longing  heart,  "  I  will  not  forget ;"  "  I 
have  graven  thee  upon  the  palms  of  my  hands" — not 
simply  written  so  as  to  be  read  with  the  eye,  but 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  199 

graven,  that  the  inscription  may  be  felt  when  it  cannot 
be  seen,  and  called  to  mind  in  the  darkness  as  well  as 
the  light. 

I  have  heard  the  sensitive  and  the  warm-hearted 
say,  upon  the  bed  of  death,  that  the  great  trial  in 
dying  is  to  pass  away  and  be  forgotten — the  great 
world  of  the  living  going  right  on  just  the  same  with- 
out you  as  with  you.  Sometimes  the  departing  spirit 
cannot  go  in  peace  upon  its  endless  journey  without 
•receiving  a  sacred  promise  from  some  one  among  the 
living  that  a  signet  of  love  shall  be  worn,  a  memorial 
anniversary  shall  be  kept,  or  a  particular  course  of  life 
shall  be  pursued,  so  as  to  bring  the  departed  constantly 
to  remembrance.  And  it  adds  immensely  to  the  cheer- 
fulness and  fortitude  with  which  any  of  us  can  meet 
the  trials  of  life  and  the  terrors  of  death  if  we  have 
the  assurance  that  the  memorial  of  our  names,  written 
in  gratitude  and  love  upon  the  living  tablets  of  another 
heart  as  frail  and  forgetful  as  our  own,  shall  never  be 
erased.  Such  is  the  constitution,  of  the  sensitive  and 
yearning  nature  to  which  God  has  given  the  promise, 
"  I  will  never  forget  thee."  The  world,  by  a  universal 
verdict,  declares  it  to  be  the  hardest  lot  to  lose  all 
name  and  remembrance  among  the  living — to  die  and 
give  no  sign. 

I  once  visited  an  old  German  castle  in  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Baden.  It  stood  on  the  slope  "of  a  mountain 
overlooking  a  wide  and  various  landscape  up  and 
down  the  course  of  the  storied  and  beautiful  Rhine 


200  GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

The  buttressed  walls  and  loopholed  towers  and  cren- 
elated parapet,  the  broad  stone  staircase  and  the  lofty 
apartments,  were  all  as  the  hand  of  the  builder  left 
them  six  hundred  years  before.  Down  deep  beneath 
the  foundations  of  the  castle  was  a  dark-vaulted  cham- 
ber excavated  in  the  rock.  Originally  there  was  but 
one  entrance  to  this  chamber,  and  that  was  a  long, 
narrow,  perpendicular  passage,  descending  from  above 
like  the  flue  of  a  furnace,  without  steps,  ladder  or 
staircase. 

In  that  rock-hewn  chamber  met  the  terrible  Vehm- 
gericht,  the  mysterious  council  of  vengeance  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  accused,  the  judges  and  the  wit- 
nesses descended  to  the  court  of  death  through  the 
same  passage.  Every  member  of  the  tribunal  was 
sworn,  by  an  awful  oath,  to  conceal  its  proceedings 
from  "  wife  and  child,  father  and  mother,  sister  and 
brother,  fire  and  wind,  farm  and  village — from  all  that 
the  sun  shines  and  the  rain  falls  upon — from  all  be- 
tween heaven  and  earth."  The  accused,  when  brought 
before  that  court,  did  not  know  either  judges  or  wit- 
nesses. All  were  dressed  in  black  gowns,  with  a  cowl 
that  covered  the  face  like  a  mask.  If  condemned,  the 
wretched  victim  was  ordered  to  walk  along  a  narrow 
passage  toward  a  door,  which  remains  to  this  day, 
made  of  a  single  slab  of  stone,  which  still  hangs  upon 
its  hinges,  and  which,  when  slowly  turned,  creaks 
upon  its  rocky  threshold  with  a  sound  that  pierces  the 
heart  as  with  a  sword.  An  invisible  hand  swung  the 


GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  201 

door  before  the  condemned  man,  and  he  saw  a  faint 
light,  and  beneath  it  an  image  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
He  was  told  to  kiss  the  image.  In  the  act  of  doing  so 
a  trap-door  was  sprung  beneath  him,  and  he  fell  into  a 
pit  eighty  feet  deep,  upon  the  points  of  revolving  spears 
and  knives  that  had  been  set  there  for  his  destruction. 

If  he  was  summoned,  and  did  not  deliver  himself  up 
to  the  secret  court  at  the  time  and  place  appointed,  he 
was  condemned  without  trial ;  and  thenceforth  through- 
out Germany  there  were  a  hundred  thousand  secret 
ministers  of  vengeance  sworn  to  put  him  to  death. 
Not  long  afterward  his  body  was  sure  to  be  found 
hanging  to  a  tree,  in  sight  of  the  public  road,  with  a 
mystical  dagger  sticking  in  the  trunk,  to  show  that  he 
had  been  killed  by  the  secret  tribunal.  And  nobody 
dared  to  name  the  victim,  or  ask  a  question  about  the 
cause  of  his  death. 

All  who  passed  the  rocky  door  of  that  dungeon 
court  beneath  the  castle  were  called  "the  forgotten" 
Neither  father  nor  mother,  brother  nor  sister,  wife  nor 
child  might  thenceforth  mention  their  names.  No 
badge  of  mourning  could  be  worn  by  the  bereaved,  no 
funeral  service  could  be  celebrated,  no  public  announce- 
ment might  indicate  their  death.  No  tablet  or  tomb- 
stone could  be  reared  to  their  memory.  None  dared 
to  write  or  speak  their  names  for  fear  of  the  vengeance 
of  the  mysterious  and  merciless  council.  And  what 
made  that  tribunal  so  awful  was  the  fact  that,  when 
they  took  the  life  of  their  victim,  they  blotted  out  his 


202  GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

name  and  his  memorial  from  the  earth.  They  suffered 
no  tongue  to  tell  his  wrongs,  no  pen  to  write  his  his- 
tory, no  friend  to  inquire  for  his  accusation,  no  advo- 
cate to  plead  his  cause.  He  must  be  forgotten,  and  the 
world  must  be  made  to  fear  the  vengeance  of  that 
secret  court  by  the  threat  of  that  most  awful  doom — 
forgetfulness.  And  no  tribunal  or  secret  council  has 
ever  impressed  the  minds  of  men  with  such  awful  terror 
as  that  which  so  effectually  took  away  all  name  and 
remembrance  of  its  victim  from  the  earth. 

And  when  God  sets  his  bow  in  the  cloud  as  a  me- 
mento of  his  covenant,  when  he  tells  us  that  he  will 
look  upon  it  that  he  may  remember  what  he  has 
promised,  he  appeals  most  affectingly  to  this  involun- 
tary and  universal  shrinking  of  the  human  heart  from 
the  dark  and  desolate  doom  of  the  forgotten.  It  is 
something  to  be  remembered  with  grateful  affection  by  a 
dumb  brute.  It  is  much  to  be  remembered  and  kindly 
thought  of  by  one  poor  human  heart.  It  is  more  to  be 
remembered  and  loved  by  many,  though  they  are  as 
frail  and  as  easily  afflicted  as  ourselves.  But  God  is 
greater  than  all  hearts.  And  nothing  makes  us  feel 
our  own  greatness  more  than  to  find  that  he  thinks  of 
us  with  tender  solicitude,  and  keeps  a  book  of  remem- 
brance before  him  that  he  may  never  forget  us. 

Can  the  mother  forget  her  infant  child  ?  Ask  that 
mother,  who  parted  from  hers  an  hour  ago,  how  many 
times  since  her  heart  has  gone  home  to  the  snowy  nest 
where  the  songless  bird  lies  sleeping?  Ask  the  mother 


GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  203 

who  saw  the  shadow  of  death  come  over  the  face  of  her 
child  years  ago,  how  many  hours  have  passed  since  that 
day  in  which  she  has  failed  to  think  of  that  last  bitter 
moment  when  the  loved  voice  ceased,  and  the  light  in 
the  gentle  eyes  went  out,  and  she  found  herself  bending 
over  the  dead  ?  Who  has  not  heard  the  sad  story  of 
the  mother,  with  her  husband  and  child,  attempting  to 
cross  the  Green  Mountains  in  midwinter?  Their 
progress  was  arrested  by  night  and  the  storm.  The 
husband  went  for  help,  but  lost  his  way  in  the  darkness 
and  the  drifted  snow,  and  was  long  in  returning.  The 
mother  felt  the  chill  of  death  coming  upon  her,  and 
she  bared  her  bosom  to  the  freezing  blast  and  the  fall- 
ing snow,  that  she  might  give  all  that  remained  of  her 
own  life  to  save  that  of  her  child.  And  when  the 
morning  came,  the  living  babe  was  found  wrapped  in  the 
mother's  shawl,  vainly  striving,  with  smiles  and  with  a 
babe's  pretty  arts,  to  arrest  the  attention  of  her  fixed 
and  frozen  eye,  and  wondering  why  she  did  not  wake 
from  her  cold  sleep. 

So  much  stronger  than  death  is  the  love  that  binds 
the  mother's  heart  to  her  babe.  And  yet  God  says  that 
the  mother  shall  sooner  forget  her  child  than  he  will 
forget  a  single  soul  that  trusts  in  him. 

"Every  human  tie  may  perish 

Friend  to  friend  unfaithful  prove ; 

Mothers  cease  their  own  to  cherish, 

Heaven  and  earth  at  last  remove ; 

But  no  changes 
Can  attend  Jehovah's  love." 


204  GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

The  bow  never  appears  except  on  the  cloud.  It 
must  have  the  dark  background  of  the  tempest  on 
which  to  inscribe  the  glowing  and  beautiful  covenant 
of  peace.  When  the  bright  day  bathes  the  whole  earth 
with  sunshine,  there  is  no  need  of  the  bow,  and  it  is 
not  seen.  The  storm-cloud  darkens  the  heavens,  the 
thunder  shakes  the  hills,  the  strong  wind  bends  the 
forest  and  uproots  the  mighty  oak,  the  rain  descends 
in  torrents,  and  the  flooded  streams  threaten  to  overflow 
the  fields  and  carry  away  the  flocks.  And  then  the 
bow  comes  out  in  serene  and  heavenly  beauty,  to  show 
us  that  God  has  not  forgotten  his  covenant  of  peace 
with  the  earth. 

The  world  never  looks  so  beautiful  as  it  does  when 
the  summer  shower  is  passing  away,  and  the  bow  is  set 
in  the  retiring  cloud  before  the  thunder  ceases  to  be 
heard  or  the  lightning  to  flash  along  the  darkened  sky. 
The  most  precious  of  all  earthly  blessings  are  those 
which  are  given  in  contrast  with  trouble  and  sorrow. 
We  all  need  trial  and  conflict  and  darkness  to  make  us 
look  for  the  light  and  long  for  peace.  We  are  never 
so  thankful  for  an  hour  of  sleep  as  when  it  comes  after 
a  night  of  wakefulness  and  pain.  It  is  hunger  that 
gives  healthful  appetite  for  food.  It  is  toil  that  pre- 
pares for  rest.  It  is  conflict  that  prepares  the  longing 
soul  for  peace.  If  we  had  no  shadows,  we  could  have 
no  sun.  Perpetual  day  would  be  pain  and  madness. 
Perpetual  night  would  be  imprisonment  and  despair. 
When  the  cloud  of  trouble  casts  its  gloom  upon  your 


GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  205 

path,  look  up  and  you  will  see  the  bow  of  promise 
bending  over  you,  bright  with  tears  of  pity  and  beau- 
tiful with  all  the  hues  of  heaven.  To  all  who  look  up 
for  the  token  of  God's  covenant  the  darkest  day  is  the 
prelude  to  an  evening  of  gratitude  and  peace. 

The  great  destiny  of  time  and  eternity  turns  upon 
obedience  to  the  divine  command,  Look  up,  set  your 
affections  on  things  above,  not  on  things  on  the  earth. 
A  little  boy  playing  in  the  streets  of  Baltimore  came 
to  the  foot  of  a  long  ladder  and  looked  up.  He  heard 
the  sound  of  hammers  and  the  voices  of  workmen  far 
up  on  the  roof  above  him,  and  his  childish  curiosity 
impelled  him  to  climb.  He  set  his  little  foot  on  the 
lower  round  and  his  hand  on  the  next,  and  then  pulled 
himself  up  slowly,  hand  over  hand,  round  after  round, 
till  he  was  so  high  that  a  fall  would  be  instant  death, 
and  yet  he  had  not  reached  the  top.  He  grew  tired, 
and  wished  he  had  not  begun  to  climb.  He  looked 
down  to  see  how  far  he  had  come,  and  the  great  height 
made  him  giddy.  He  began  to  tremble,  and  was  fast 
losing  his  strength  and  his  hold.  Just  then  a  man 
passing  along  the  street  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  looked 
up,  saw  him  terrified  and  trembling,  and  cried  out, 
"  My  God !  that  boy  is  going  to  fall."  The  man  meant 
no  harm,  but  it  was  the  worst  thing  he  could  say.  His 
words  and  the  frightened  tone  in  which  he  spoke  made 
the  poor  child  much  nearer  falling  than  he  was  before. 
He  grew  more  and  more  giddy.  He  thought  the  ladder 
swayed  to  and  fro  like  trees  bent  by  the  storm.  He 


206  GOD'S  BOW  IN  TEE  CLOUD. 

thought  the  house  and  the  whole  street  were  rocking 
like  ships  on  the  sea.  But  all  at  once  he  heard  an- 
other voice,  loud,  cheery  and  full  of  courage,  from  the 
roof  of  the  house  above  him — "Boy,  look  up !"  He  did 
look  up ;  anybody  would  have  done  so,  hearing  such 
a  hearty  voice  as  that:  "All  right  now.  Come  on." 
The  boy  was  no  longer  giddy.  He  began  to  climb, 
and  soon  he  reached  the  hand  of  the  sensible  carpen- 
ter on  the  roof,  whose  cheery  word  had  saved  him 
from  being  dashed  in  pieces  on  the  pavement  of  the 
street. 

That  boy  became  a  man  of  genius  and  culture.  His 
written  thoughts  went  all  over  America  and  stirred 
strong  emotions  in  thousands  of  hearts.  But  to  the 
day  of  his  death  he  never  ceased  to  attribute  the  pre- 
servation of  his  life  and  the  accomplishment  of  all  that 
he  ever  did  in  the  world  to  the  timely  and  encourag- 
ing words  of  the  carpenter  on  the  roof:  "Look  up. 
Come  on." 

There  is  many  a  weary  climber  standing  trembling 
and  fearful  on  the  steep  ladder  of  life ;  high  enough 
up  to  make  it  fatal  to  fall,  yet  with  much  more  climb- 
ing to  do  before  he  will  reach  a  place  of  rest.  He  is 
discouraged  and  disheartened,  and  he  hears  somebody 
say,  "  He  will  never  make  anything — he  will  never 
succeed — he  will  certainly  fall."  And  yet  he  only 
needs  to  hear  the  kindly  and  cheering  voice  which 
comes  to  him  from  above,  saying,  "  Look  up."  There 
is  a  strong  Helper  bending  down  to  take  him  by  the 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  207 

hand.  If  he  will  only  look  up  and  see  that  Face,  he 
will  climb  till  he  reaches  the  heights  of  heaven. 

This  is  the  word  which  kind  Heaven  sends  down  to 
the  tired  and  the  tempted,  to  the  discouraged  and 
heartbroken,  whether  child  or  man — "Look  up." 
This  is  the  cheering,  courageous  command  which  rings 
through  all  the  revelation  of  God  to  man — Look  up. 
Heaven  is  above  you,  the  pit  is  beneath.  It  is  safe  to 
climb.  It  is  destruction  to  stop  and  look  back.  Oh, 
ye  halting  and  weary,  ye  fearful  and  fainthearted 
climbers  on  the  steep  ladder  of  life,  all  above  you  is 
calm  and  steady  when  the  earth  reels  and  shakes  be- 
neath your  feet.  Look  up  and  keep  climbing,  and  you 
will  soon  see  a  divine  hand  reaching  over  the  battle- 
ments of  heaven  to  help  you  in.  Ye  giddy  and 
thoughtless  ones,  who  are  carried  round  and  round  in 
the  wild  whirl  of  worldly  excitement  and  vanity,  look 
up.  One  longing,  trusting  gaze  at  the  clear,  calm 
heavens  above  will  open  to  you  more  correct  views  of 
life,  and  will  impart  more  strength  and  peace  in  the 
soul,  than  all  the  blinding  and  bewildering  pleasures 
of  earth  ever  gave. 

The  bow  in  the  cloud  never  appears  till  the  sun  is 
more  than  half-way  down  the  sky,  and  it  is  highest 
and  brightest  when  the  sun  is  nearest  to  the  horizon. 
It  is  when  we  are  getting  discouraged  and  the  oppor- 
tunity for  success  seems  to  have  passed  from  us,  that 
the  Divine  promise  comes :  "  I  will  never  leave  nor 
forsake  you."  In  the  high  noon  of  prosperity  and 


208  GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE   CLOUD. 

proud  success  we  are  not  apt  to  look  upward  for  the 
sign  of  hope  and  divine  protection.  But  when  the 
hand  grows  weary  and  the  heart  faint;  when  the 
keepers  of  the  house  tremble  and  the  strong  bow 
themselves;  when  desire  fails  and  fears  are  in  the 
way ;  when  trifles  become  a  burden  and  the  voices  of 
music  are  brought  low,  and  the  sun  of  life  is  going 
down,  then  the  bow  of  promise  appears  as  the  sign  of 
hope.  Then  the  afflicted  and  heartbroken  have  only 
to  look  up  through  eyes  dimmed  with  tears  to  see  the 
finger  of  God  writing  the  covenant  of  peace  on  the 
cloud. 

I  love  the  sunshine,  and  my  heart  leaps  with  joy  at 
the  sight  of  the  green  fields  and  the  waving  forests  and 
the  glittering  torrents  singing  among  the  hills.  But  I 
know  that  the  storm  must  drift  its  darkness  over  the 
sky,  and  the  thunder-cloud  must  roar  through  the  air, 
and  the  sun  of  the  summer's  day  must  decline  before 
the  landscape  can  put  on  its  resplendent  beauty  and 
the  many-colored  bow  lift  its  archway  of  light  for 
angels  to  pass  from  heaven  to  earth.  And  so  ever- 
more it  is  the  decline  of  earthly  hope  that  helps  us 
look  to  the  higher  and  better  home.  And  we  can 
afford  to  have  all  our  worldly  expectation  cut  off  if 
such  disappointment  shall  lead  us  to  set  our  hearts 
upon  the  blessed  land  where  the  storm  never  drifts  its 
darkness  and  the  sun  never  goes  down. 

We  can  see  the  bow  in  the  cloud  only  when  stand- 
ing with  the  back  to  the  sun.  The  observer,  who 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  209 

would  see  the  token  on.  which  God  himself  is  looking 
in  remembrance  of  his  promised  mercy,  must  turn  his 
eye  from  the  dazzling  glories  of  the  setting  day  and 
face  the  cloud  and  the  coming  night.  It  is  when  we 
turn  the  eye  of  faith  away  from  all  the  splendor  and 
beauty  of  earth  that  we  behold  the  dawn  of  a  more 
surpassing  glory  yet  to  be  revealed.  Heaven  is  very 
near;  its  golden  gates  are  thrown  wide  open,  and 
strains  of  its  everlasting  song  are  wafted  forth  to  the 
dying  Christian  when  his  face  is  turned  away  from 
earth  and  his  spirit  is  pluming  itself  for  flight. 

We  should  see  more  of  heaven,  we  should  have  more 
of  light  and  peace  in  our  souls  all  along  the  pathway 
of  life,  if  we  looked  less  on  the  transient  and  deceptive 
splendor  of  earthly  things,  and  fixed  the  eye  of  faith 
upon  the  veil  of  the  future,  where  God  writes  his 
promise  of  the  glory  and  the  blessed  life  beyond. 
God  sets  his  bow  in  the  cloud  to  show  us  that  the 
heavenly  pervades  and  overarches  and  crowns  the 
earthly.  The  token  of  his  covenant  rises  in  serene 
and  glorious  beauty  above  all  the  earthly  homes  of 
men,  above  the  plains  and  the  forests,  above  the  hills 
and  the  mountains.  It  seems  like  a  squadron  of  bright 
angels  ranged  in  sevenfold  ranks,  and  moving  in  silent 
and  sublime  array  along  the  moving  cloud,  to  show  us 
how  pre-eminent  and  blessed  is  the  life  of  heaven 
ibove  the  life  of  earth. 

God  sets  the  token  of  his  covenant  high  enough  for 
all  to  see,  and  yet  he  brings  it  down  to  earth  for  all  to 


210  GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

touch  and  embrace.  He  makes  it  bright  and  beautiful 
for  all  to  admire.  He  is  not  afraid  that  the  conditions 
of  his  offered  mercy  will  be  too  large  and  free,  or  too 
inviting  and  attractive.  He  would  have  them  rise 
above  all  the  restrictions  of  sect  and  creed,  condition 
and  race.  You  have  only  to  be  a  man,  though  the 
poorest  and  the  worst,  and  he  points  you  to  the  token 
of  his  covenant  and  bids  you  believe  and  be  saved. 
He  sends  out  the  messengers  of  his  mercy  to  run 
through  all  the  earth,  as  free  as  the  clouds  fly  and  the 
rain  falls  and  the  sun  shines,  and  every  one  is  commis- 
sioned to  say  to  men,  Look  up  and  behold  the  sign 
that  God  remembers  you  in  mercy,  and  desires  you  to 
trust  his  word  and  be  saved. 

The  great  thing  for  you  to  believe  is  that  God  is  not 
lying  in  wait  to  destroy  you,  but  that  he  desires  your 
welfare  and  is  showering  blessings  upon  you  every 
moment.  If  you  would  please  your  heavenly  Father, 
you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  accept  his  offered  hand 
and  walk  with  him  through  all  the  journey  of  life. 
He  will  lead  you  in  a  safe  path,  and  he  will  make  the 
desert  smile  for  you  at  your  approach. 

God's  covenant  of  mercy  is  with  every  living  crea- 
ture of  all  flesh.  He  sets  the  token  of  that  covenant 
high  enough  for  every  eye  to  see,  and  he  makes  it 
beautiful  enough  for  every  heart  to  admire.  To  the 
fearful  that  token  says,  Be  not  afraid ;  to  the  wayward, 
Be  not  disobedient ;  to  the  careless,  Look  up  and  be- 
hold the  sign  and  seal  of  God's  care  over  you  every 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD.  211 

moment.  When  your  homes  are  dark  with  affliction, 
look  up  and  you  will  see  God's  bow  in  the  cloud.  In 
the  very  dispensation  of  Providence  which  seems  so 
dark  you  can  read  the  divine  promise,  I  will  never 
leave  nor  forsake  you. 

When  the  way  of  duty  has  become  hard  and  weari- 
some, and  you  have  forsaken  it  to  enter  some  by-path 
of  pleasure  and  self-indulgence,  and  it  has  brought  you 
to  sorrow  and  despair,  you  have  only  to  turn  back  and 
you  shall  see  the  bow  of  promise  shining  with  serene 
and  heavenly  beauty  over  the  path  of  peace,  and  in- 
viting you  to  return  and  resume  the  heavenward  jour- 
ney. When  the  world  has  taken  possession  of  your 
heart,  and  you  are  living  only  for  earth,  look  up  and 
see  God's  bow  of  promise  building  a  pathway  of  light, 
and  inviting  you  to  the  city  that  hath  everlasting 
foundations,  whose  Builder  and  Maker  is  God. 

God's  bow  in  the  cloud  is  a  seal  that  never  grows 
dim  with  age  or  use.  It  is  as  bright  to-day  as  when 
the  patriarch  saw  it  overarching  the  mountains  of 
Ararat.  Long  as  the  cloud  forms,  and  the  rain  falls, 
and  the  sun  shines,  that  bow  will  be  bright  and  new. 
So  is  it  with  God's  covenant  of  mercy  with  man.  It  is 
as  fresh  and  full  of  power  to-day  as  it  was  when  first 
sealed  with  the  sacrificial  blood  of  the  cross.  In 
eighteen  hundred  years  of  search  and  study  and  expe- 
riment, nothing  has  been  found  to  satisfy  the  demands 
of  the  needy  soul  save  the  covenant  of  mercy,  which  is 
still  proclaimed  by  the  bow  in  the  cloud  and  by  the 


212  GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE   CLOUD. 

blood  of  the  cross.  After  all  the  inventions  and  dis- 
coveries of  ages,  the  old  way  of  salvation  by  mercy 
alone  is  still  the  newest,  the  safest  and  the  best.  The 
penitent  sinner  finds  as  free  and  full  forgiveness  in 
Christ  to-day  as  did  the  dying  malefactor  who  offered 
his  first  and  last  prayer  on  the  cross :  "  Lord,  remember 
me  when  thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom." 

The  appearance  of  the  bow  in  the  cloud  depends 
upon  the  position  in  which  the  spectator  stands.  The 
cloud  forms,  the  rain  falls  and  the  sun  shines  a  hun- 
dred times  in  the  year  when  no  bow  is  seen.  And  let 
a  thousand  persons  look  at  the  same  cloud  and  speak 
of  the  same  sign,  every  one  will  see  a  separate  bow. 
And  so  every  heart  has  its  own  grief  and  its  own  joy. 
God's  mercy  is  ever  infinite  and  free.  It  depends  upon 
ourselves  whether  we  shall  make  the  gift  of  that  mercy 
our  own.  God's  voice  of  love  fills  the  world.  We  must 
give  attention  or  we  shall  not  think  that  he  is  speaking 
to  us.  When  we  listen  to  our  Father's  voice  with  a 
loving  heart,  we  shall  feel  that  his  word  is  all  for  us. 
When  the  light  of  heaven  falls  upon  the  teardrops  of 
earth,  it  makes  the  bow  of  peace.  It  is  when  we  look 
up,  through  eyes  dimmed  with  penitent  tears,  that  the 
light  of  the  Divine  love  clothes  everything  with  beauty 
and  makes  everything  a  blessing.  The  deepest  joy 
comes  to  those  who  have  drank  deepest  of  the  cup  of 
sorrow.  The  brighest  path  is  the  one  upon  which  we 
go  forth  when  leaving  the  prison-house  of  darkness 
and  sin  behind. 


GOD'S  BOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

The  higher  one  goes  to  look,  the  more  complete  is 
the  bow  which  he  sees  in  the  cloud.  When  travelers 
climb  to  mountain-tops,  they  see,  instead  of  a  bow,  a 
full  circle  of  sevenfold  rays  on  the  cloud  beneath. 
And  so  a  time  comes,  in  the  largest  and  richest  experi- 
ence of  faith,  when  the  believer  is  lifted  so  far  above 
all  the  clouds  of  doubt  and  fear  and  trouble  that  the 
token  of  God's  promise  to  him  is  complete,  the  cove- 
nant of  mercy  is  fulfilled.  Like  John  in  the  heavenly 
vision,  he  sees,  not  a  bow,  but  a  full  circle — an  aureola 
of  sevenfold  glory  round  about  the  throne.  His  sins 
are  all  forgiven ;  his  sorrows  are  all  healed ;  his  desires 
are  all  answered ;  the  divine  promises  are  all  fulfilled. 
He  has  nothing  more  to  ask.  Christ  is  his,  and  God  is 
all  in  all. 

This  blessed  experience  of  assured  faith  may  be 
short ;  it  may  come  but  once  in  a  lifetime ;  it  may  be 
attained  only  after  sore  conflict  with  doubt  and  fear  or 
sad  exposure  to  the  tempests  and  billows  of  affliction. 
It  may  be  remembered,  when  past,  as  the  traveler  re- 
members the  one  hour  of  ecstasy  which  he  spent  on  the 
top  of  the  high  mountain  with  all  the  splendors  and 
glories  of  the  earth  beneath  his  feet.  But  the  traveler 
never  thinks  it  cost  him  too  much  climbing  to  enjoy 
that  view  only  for  once  and  for  so  short  a  time.  And 
methinks  that  the  beloved  disciple  welcomed  the  woes 
of  exile  with  exceeding  joy  when  he  found  that  they 
opened  for  him  a  door  in  heaven  and  permitted  him  to 
behold  the  rainbow  round  about  the  throne.  And 


214  GOD'S  SOW  IN  THE  CLOUD. 

surely  we  can  afford  to  climb  the  steepest  mountains, 
to  endure  the  sorest  trials,  to  make  the  greatest  efforts 
and  sacrifices,  to  attain  such  a  height  of  faith  only  for 
once  and  for  an  hour,  as  to  see  the  bow  of  God's  prom- 
ises all  complete  and  to  make  them  all  our  own.  That 
vision  of  beauty  and  of  blessing  once  seen  can  never 
be  effaced  from  the  inner  chamber  of  the  soul  until  it 
is  lost  in  the  revealed  splendors  of  that  throne  which 
is  girt  with  the  rainbow  in  heaven. 


Crasikr  t|je  f HIM. 


Consider  the  lilies  cfi'iejield,  how  they  grow ;  tfey  toil  not,  neither  do 
they  spin  ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  That  even  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was 
not  arrayed  like  one  of  these.— MATT.  vi.  28,  29. 


X. 

CONSIDER  THE   LILIES. 

HE  flowers  of  the  field  form  the  connecting 
link  between  living  man  and  the  lifeless  earth. 
Flowers  breathe  and  sleep  like  man,  but  they 
are  mute  like  the  earth.  They  move  in  grace- 
ful lines  at  the  swaying  of  the  wind,  but  they  are 
rooted  to  the  same  spot  of  ground.  They  have  the 
seductive  charm  of  beauty,  but  not  the  dangerous  fire 
of  passion.  They  can  receive  the  homage  of  admira- 
tion without  vanity,  and  they  can  suffer  the  coldness 
of  neglect  without  complaint.  They  win  all  hearts 
with  the  unstudied  grace  of  simplicity,  and  they  bestow 
their  smiles  with  equal  warmth  upon  all  beholders. 
They  bloom  without  pride  and  they  fade  without 
regret.  They  live  without  anxiety  and  they  die  with- 
out pain. 

Our  Lord  sets  the  lilies  to  teach  us  the  great  lesson 
of  trust  in  God.  By  common  consent  among  men, 
flowers  in  general  are  chosen  to  express  all  the  desires 
and  dispositions  of  the  human  heart — the  dark  and 
wicked  as  well  as  the  loving  and  good.  They  represent 
the  constancy  that  turns  to  the  object  of  affection  like 

217 


218  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

the  heliotrope  to  the  sun,  and  the  fickleness  which  is 
swayed  like  the  wind-flower  by  the  slightest  breath  of 
air.  In  the  cypress  they  bewail  disappointed  hopes, 
and  in  the  amaranth  they  teach  the  great  lesson  of 
immortality.  The  sensitive  mimosa  shrinks  from  the 
first  breath  of  misfortune,  and  the  hardy  snowdrop 
defies  the  wintry  blasts  of  adversity.  The  nightshade 
warns  against  the  dark  thoughts  and  evil  suspicions  of 
skepticism,  and  the  star  of  Bethlehem  bids  us  look 
heavenward  for  hope  and  consolation.  The  violet 
pledges  unchanging  love  for  the  living,  and  the  shiv- 
ering leaves  of  the  locust  murmur  in  unabated  sorrow 
for  the  dead. 

And  so,  in  our  converse  with  the  flowers,  we  find  a 
representative  for  the  pride  that  goes  before  a  fall,  and 
the  humility  which  goes  before  honor;  the  ambition 
which  seeks  the  cold  and  slippery  heights  of  fame,  and 
the  modesty  which  prefers  the  calm  retreat  and  the 
silent  shade ;  the  false  tongue  that  wounds  the  innocent 
in  malignity  or  in  sport,  and  the  purity  of  heart  that 
shrinks  from  the  thought  of  evil ;  the  flaunting  vanity 
which  is  enamored  of  its  own  beauty,  and  the  modest 
virtue  which  blushes  at  the  mention  of  its  own  worth. 

So  on  all  occasions  and  for  all  purposes  flowers  are 
set  forth  to  express  the  human  heart.  They  shade  the 
fountain  which  refreshes  with  its  cooling  waters,  and 
they  wreathe  the  wine-cup  which  poisons  with  its  mad- 
dening draught.  They  crown  the  conqueror  who  comes 
from  the  bloodstained  fields  of  war,  and  they  twine 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES.  21 1J 

the  garlands  that  are  borne  by  the  messenger  of  peace. 
They  outshine  the  costly  robes  in  the  mansions  of  the 
rich,  and  they  creep  up  in  their  quiet  beauty  to  adorn 
the  cottage  of  the  poor.  They  mingle  in  the  mazes 
of  the  dance,  they  crown  the  festive-board,  and  they 
breathe  forth  the  incense  of  perfume  in  the  place  of 
prayer.  They  adorn  the  youthful  bride  in  the  day  of 
her  beauty  and  joy,  and  they  cheer  the  sad  heart  of  the 
widow  in  her  desolation  and  sorrow.  They  smile  upon 
the  sports  of  children  playing  in  the  sunshine,  and 
they  come  with  a  message  of  rest  and  hope  to  weary- 
handed  workmen  who  toil  all  day  amid  the  clang  of 
hammers  and  the  groan  of  engines.  They  lend  a 
charm  to  the  quiet  pleasures  of  home ;  they  watch  in 
the  sad  chamber  of  the  sick  and  suffering ;  they  go  on 
errands  of  comfort  and  mercy  to  the  afflicted;  they 
bestow  the  last  benediction  on  the  silent  face  in  the 
shroud ;  they  come  year  by  year,  with  unfailing  con- 
stancy, to  wreathe  garlands  around  the  lowly  bed  where 
the  beloved  have  laid  down  to  their  last  sleep. 

Thus  the  flowers  seem  appointed  to  be  our  compan- 
ions and  comforters  in  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life. 
And  although  man  in  blindness  and  depravity  may  use 
them  for  the  adornment  of  his  vices  and  the  expression 
of  his  evil  passions,  the  flowers  themselves  are  all  gentle 
and  good.  They  came  forth  from  Paradise  with  the 
purity  which  they  had  before  the  fall.  They  have 
traveled  with  man  all  over  the  earth,  to  show  him  how 
much  he  lost  by  sin,  and  how  much  may  be  regained 


220  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

by  repentance.  And  God  has  kept  the  love  of  flowers 
in  the  hearts  of  men  to  make  it  easy  for  them  to  receive 
divine  lessons  from  such  gentle  and  lovely  teachers. 
God  has  made  the  worst  of  men  susceptible  to  the 
gentle  beauty  of  flowers,  to  convince  them  that  in  all 
their  hardness  and  wickedness  they  still  have  capacities 
for  good ;  in  all  their  wanderings  through  the  waste 
places  of  the  world,  the  pure,  the  humble,  the  gentle 
flowers  go  with  them  to  call  them  back  to  the  lost 
Paradise. 

Flowers  are  the  silent  music  of  nature,  the  embodied 
harmonies  that  are  sung  by  the  birds  and  sounded  forth 
by  the  seas,  murmured  by  the  foliage  of  the  wild  forest 
and  whispered  in  the  rustle  of  the  bearded  grain.  The 
sweet  and  wild  melodies  that  find  voice  and  utterance 
in  the  winds  and  waves  are  crystallized  into  forms  of 
beauty  in  the  gentle  flowers.  Those  who  have  no  ear 
for  music  and  detect  no  harmonies  in  Nature  may 
experience  the  same  emotions  of  beauty  which  music 
is  designed  to  awaken  by  contemplating  the  graceful 
form  of  the  lily  and  the  blushing  hues  of  the  rose. 
Music  is  the  child  of  heaven,  and  the  blessedness  of 
the  better  land  finds  the  fittest  expression  in  everlasting 
song.  The  purest  and  loftiest  emotions  that  the  heart 
ever  feels  on  earth  are  awakened  by  music,  and  the 
soul,  in  the  favored  hours  of  assured  faith  and  perfect 
love,  is  wafted  away  to  the  mansions  of  rest  upon  waves 
of  song. 

And  yet  fallen  man  can  make  music  a  fallen  angel 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES.  221 

to  excite  the  basest  passions  and  to  lead  the  unwary  in 
the  way  to  hell.  So  is  it  with  flowers,  the  beautiful 
children  of  Paradise  that  received  no  stain  from  the 
sin  of  the  fall.  They  may  be  woven  into  garlands  to 
adorn  the  brow  of  the  hero  and  the  bosom  of  the 
harlot.  They  can  be  made  to  breathe  their  perfume 
upon  the  senseless  orgies  of  the  bacchanal  and  the  pas- 
sionate mazes  of  the  dance.  And  yet  the  flowers  them- 
selves are  pure.  They  are  as  much  at  home  in  the 
sanctuary  as  the  sacred  song  and  the  solemn  prayer. 
The  holiest  place  on  earth  is  made  more  like  heaven  by 
the  presence  of  the  flowers — the  fair  children  of  the 
light,  the  pitying  angels  that  came  forth  with  man  from 
Eden  to  soothe  the  woes  of  exile  and  to  win  his  heart 
back  to  the  lost  Paradise.  If  you  would  adorn  and 
chasten  the  festivities  of  home  with  emblems  of  inno- 
cence and  love ;  if  you  would  cheer  the  dark  hours  of 
pain  in  the  chamber  of  the  sick  with  the  sweetest 
expression  of  gratitude  and  trust ;  if  you  would  conse- 
crate the  Lord's  altar  with  offerings  of  purity  from  his 
own  most  glorious  work;  if  you  would  beautify  the 
resting-place  of  the  dead  with  the  most  expressive 
symbols  of  life  and  immortality, — you  can  choose 
nothing  better  than  flowers. 

The  Bible  was  not  written  to  teach  any  branch  of 
natural  science,  and  yet  it  names  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  different  kinds  of  plants.  There  are  more 
than  three  hundred  passages  of  Scripture  in  which  the 
inspired  writers  draw  lessons  for  the  instruction  of  man 


222  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

from  the  flowers  of  the  field.  Our  Lord  himself,  in 
one  of  the  most  tender  and  solemn  portions  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  turned  the  attention  of  the  lis- 
tening multitude  to  the  beautiful  emblems  of  trust  tl  at 
were  in  sight  of  every  eye  when  he  said,  "  Consider  the 
lilies."  We  should  manifest  a  very  different  spirit 
from  holy  men  of  old,  who  spoke  as  they  were  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  if  we  should  refuse  to  make  a 
sacred  study  of  the  flowers  of  the  field. 

Consider  first  the  most  obvious  and  commonly  ob- 
served characteristic  of  the  flowers  —  their  beauty. 
No  art  of  man  has  been  able  to  combine  symmetry 
with  variety  of  form,  depth  with  delicacy  of  hue,  as 
every  eye  can  see  them  in  the  flowers.  God  has  made 
everything  beautiful  in  its  time  and  place.  And  no 
man  can  find  out  the  work  of  God  unto  perfection,  be- 
cause every  minutest  thing  which  he  has  made  is  the 
perfection  of  beauty  in  design  and  adaptation.  One 
would  need  to  comprehend  the  whole  infinite  order 
and  frame  of  things  in  existence  to  know  how  per- 
fectly every  individual  thing  which  God  has  made  fills 
its  place  and  displays  the  highest  beauty  of  plan  and 
execution.  Nothing  in  the  universe,  when  fully  un- 
derstood, is  deformed  or  out  of  place — nothing  mars 
the  beauty  of  God's  perfect  work.  The  whole  creation, 
as  it  came  from  the  hands  of  the  Divine  Builder,  is  a 
cosmos — that  is  to  say,  an  adornment,  a  harmonious 
and  fitting  order  of  things.  And  this  perfect  work  of 
God  will  give  interest  and  pleasure  to  all  pure,  rever- 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES.  223 

ent,  well-ordered  minds  the  more  it  is  studied,  the 
better  it  is  understood. 

At  first  glance,  the  bald  and  splintered  peak  of  the 
granite  mountain  seems  like  a  scar  upon  the  sky,  a  dis- 
eased and  deformed  protuberance  on  the  earth.  And 
yet  the  golden-tinted  clouds  and  the  silent  heavens 
above,  and  the  wooded  slopes  and  the  grassy  vales 
beneath,  would  lose  half  their  charm  were  that  rugged 
mass  of  rocky  desolation  removed.  The  cometary  orb, 
which  suddenly  blazes  forth  from  the  solitudes  of  in- 
finite space,  and  having  done  the  errand  of  its  myste- 
rious destiny  disappears  to  return  no  more,  seems  as 
if  it  were  a  wandering  discord  upon  the  peaceful  plains 
of  heaven.  But  if  it  has  no  other  use,  it  can  at  least 
teach  us  by  contrast  the  stability  of  the  heavens,  which 
were  of  old  by  the  word  of  God,  and  which  through 
successive  centuries  have  had  no  change. 

God  has  adapted  everything,  the  least  and  the 
greatest,  to  the  place  which  it  is  appointed  to  fill  in 
the  harmonious  arrangement  of  things.  Nothing 
stands  alone.  Unity  and  variety,  contrast  and  cor- 
respondence, are  balanced  and  blended  through  all 
Nature  to  secure  the  perfect  and  universal  harmony. 
There  is  such  completeness  in  number,  in  form,  in 
organization,  that  to  know  the  half  is  to  know  the 
whole.  The  bird  has  its  two  wings,  the  body  its  two 
arms,  the  head  its  two  eyes,  and  we  cannot  even  think 
of  varying  these  parts  by  more  or  less  without  shud- 
dering at  the  contemplation  of  disease  and  deformity. 


224  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

Life  has  its  two  states,  sleeping  and  waking ;  time  has 
its  two  divisions,  day  and  night ;  motion  and  magnet- 
ism have  their  two  forces,  attraction  and  repulsion ; 
all  organized  bodies  have  two  tendencies,  growth  and 
decay;  sensibility  has  its  two  states,  enjoyment  and 
suffering;  the  will  has  its  two  choices,  right  and 
wrong ;  the  soul  has  its  two  destinies,  life  and  death. 

The  mind  and  the  external  world  are  so  adapted  to 
each  other  that  these  correspondences  in  state,  number, 
force  and  experience  are  always  expected.  If  not  ap- 
parent, they  are  sought  for,  and  if  they  are  not  found 
there  is  a  painful  sense  of  unfitness  and  deformity. 
The  first  effort  of  the  human  designer  in  all  his 
works  of  taste  and  imitative  art  is  to  satisfy  the  origi- 
nal universal  demand  for  uniformity.  It  is  the  sever- 
est test  of  skill  in  the  sculptor  to  make  one  side  of  the 
human  face  correspond  to  the  other  in  the  marble 
statue.  Not  unfrequently  in  architectural  structures 
the  first  effect  of  a  door,  a  window,  a  column,  an  arch 
upon  the  beholder  is  to  set  his  mind  upon  the  search 
for  another  to  correspond.  And  if  it  is  wanting,  the 
whole  work  is  pronounced  an  offence  to  the  feelings 
and  a  libel  upon  Nature. 

God  in  the  creation  so  invariably  adapts  one  thing 
to  another,  and  everything  to  its  place,  that  a  part  is 
enough  to  teach  us  the  nature  and  use  of  the  whole. 
The  five  fingers  of  the  one  hand  satisfy  the  mind  with- 
out inquiry  that  the  other  must  have  the  same  number. 
Our  faith  in  the  unchanging  order  of  these  correspond- 


CONSIDER   THE  LILIES.  225 

ences  is  as  fixed  as  our  faith  in  our  own  existence. 
We  believe,  whether  we  can  see  it  with  our  own  obser- 
vation or  not,  that  there  is  an  essential  fitness  of  order 
and  adaptation  which  God  never  violates  in  the  infini- 
tude of  his  works.  We  can  conceive  that  he  may  make 
other  worlds  very  different  in  many  respects  from  this, 
but  we  cannot  conceive  that  he  would  make  any  wherein 
the  beauty  of  order  and  proportion  manifest  here  would 
be  wanting.  Let  our  existence  be  continued  ever  so 
long,  and  our  faculties  for  study  and  observation  be 
cultivated  ever  so  high,  we  should  continue  to  find  in 
all  of  God's  works  the  same  infinite  and  everlasting 
order,  fitness,  adaptation  which  realizes  our  highest 
conception  of  beauty,  and  warrants  the  original  decision 
of  the  one  creative  Mind,  "All  is  very  good." 

Now  this  divine  beauty  of  order  and  correspond- 
ence, the  love  of  which  is  an  instinctive  and  universal 
passion,  can  be  far  more  easily  seen  in  the  flowers  than 
in  any  other  portion  of  the  natural  world.  We  need  no 
cultivation  in  science,  no  peculiar  susceptibilities  of  taste, 
to  perceive  the  unity  and  variety,  the  contrasts  and 
correspondences  of  light  and  shade,  form  and  number, 
growth  and  decay  in  the  flower.  Everybody  sees  and 
everybody  says  that  they  are  beautiful.  Everybody 
knows  and  everybody  feels  that  God  made  them  to 
give  pleasure  by  their  beauty.  The  little  child  needs 
no  instruction  from  books  or  teachers  to  look  with 
delight  upon  the  delicate  hues  and  the  graceful  forms 

of  the  rose  and  the  lily. 
0 


226  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

All  quiet,  pure-hearted  people,  who  are  child- like 
in  their  fitness  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  are  fond  of 
flowers.  All  refined  and  devout  men,  whose  souls 
have  drank  deep  from  the  eternal  harmonies  of  God's 
kingdom,  feel  that  they  are  very  near  their  Father's 
hand  when  they  consider  the  glory  with  which  he 
clothes  the  flower  of  the  field.  The  poor,  the  lowly, 
the  uneducated  adorn  their  homes  with  the  loveliness 
and  the  beauty  which  the  Divine  Artist  pours  as  free 
as  the  sunshine  on  the  humblest  flowers.  Hard-work- 
ing men  and  women,  in  whose  hearts  is  the  covenant 
of  peace,  though  shut  up  in  close  garrets  and  crowded 
streets  and  noisy  manufactories,  hang  a  little  vine  or 
shrub  in  the  window,  and  they  watch  its  opening  blos- 
soms as  if  they  saw  in  their  delicate  tints  lingering 
rays  of  the  Paradise  once  lost,  and  foregleams  of  a 
brighter  Paradise  yet  to  be  regained. 

Devout,  spiritual,  religious  minds,  that  care  nothing 
about  the  flaunting  colors  of  fashion  or  the  elaborate 
decorations  of  art,  delight  in  contemplating  the  quiet 
and  simple  beauty  of  flowers.  The  shrinking  and 
sensitive  student  finds  nothing  in  all  the  riches  and 
splendors  of  literature  to  cheer  his  heart  so  much  as 
one  view  of  the  wild  landscape  in  the  opening  spring, 
when  trees  wave  their  green  boughs  and  flowers  swing 
their  censers  of  perfume  in  the  wind,  and  the  humble 
grass  clothes  the  field  in  more  seemly  robes  than  kings 
ever  wore. 

When   the   Christian    traveler   in  the   Holy  Land 


CONSIDER  TEE  LILIES.  227 

would  bring  home  the  most  fitting  memorial  of  the 
sacred  scenes  which  he  has  visited,  he  plucks  a  rose  on 
the  plain  of  Sharon ;  he  gathers  a  bunch  of  thorns  from 
the  sowers'  field  in  gight  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee ;  with 
tearful  eyes  and  a  trembling  hand  he  takes  a  lily  from 
the  Mount  of  the  Beatitudes ;  he  breaks  a  twig  of  tere- 
binth from  the  groves  of  Tabor ;  he  turns  aside  to  select 
a  withered  fig  leaf  as  he  threads  the  sacred  path  from 
Bethany  to  Jerusalem ;  he  bows  his  head  as  if  pressed 
with  a  crushing  burden,  and  his  mind  is  stirred  with 
thoughts  too  deep  for  tears,  as  he  takes  an  olive  leaf 
from  the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  And  when,  in  after 
years,  his  eye  falls  upon  the  leaves  and  flowers  which 
he  gathered  with  his  own  hand  beside  the  paths  where 
the  feet  of  Jesus  trod,  he  feels  that  no  work  of  art  could 
so  effectually  and  lovingly  draw  him  to  the  scenes  where 
Jesus  suffered  and  the  throne  where  Jesus  reigns. 

God  has  strewn  the  flowers  in  profusion  all  over  the 
earth,  and  he  has  given  them  infinite  variety  in  form 
and  hue,  that  every  taste  may  be  gratified,  and  that 
none  may  be  wearied  with  the  study  of  their  beauty. 
He  thus  shows  us  how  much  he  himself  delights  in  the 
perfection  of  beauty,  and  how  much  instruction,  refine- 
ment and  happiness  may  be  derived  from  the  contem- 
plation of  his  marvelous  works.  Millions  of  flowers 
are  indeed  born  to  blush  unseen  by  man,  but  they 
never  waste  their  sweetness  on  the  desert  air.  God  seee 
them  and  delights  in  their  beauty.  They  offer  up  the 
incense  of  silent  worship  to  Him  that  made  them.  The 


228  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

Lord  ever  rejoices  in  the  work  which  he  has  clothed 
with  such  a  profusion  of  beauty.  His  glory  is  declared 
not  only  by  the  heavens  and  all  the  host  of  them,  but 
by  the  primrose  stars  in  the  springing  grass,  by  snow- 
plants  that  bloom  on  the  edge  of  eternal  ice,  and  by 
the  delicate  moss  that  lives  where  the  foot  of  man 
never  trod. 

It  becomes  us  to  consider  the  lily  and  the  humblest 
flower  that  grows  with  a  feeling  of  reverence  and  of 
worship,  for  it  is  itself  a  thought,  a  plan  of  God.  Its 
beauty  is  an  expression  of  the  infinite  Mind,  just  as 
truly  as  the  most  sacred  precept  in  the  book  of  divine 
revelation.  The  two  hundred  thousand  species  of 
flowers  that  adorn  the  earth  and  preserve  their  indi- 
vidual character  from  century  to  century,  were  all 
designed  and  shaped  and  colored  with  infinite  variety 
and  beauty  by  the  Divine  Artist  who  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  earth  and  unrolled  the  firmament  of  stars 
with  his  own  hand.  He  delights  in  the  beauty  of  the 
microscopic  moss  that  climbs  the  mountain-side  eigh- 
teen thousand  feet  above  the  sea  or  travels  northward 
to  the  circle  of  perpetual  ice,  not  lep?  fjian  in  the  most 
brilliant  flowers  that  blaze  in  the  palm  groves  of  the 
Tropics. 

If  we  would  show  ourselves  to  be  God's  children,  we 
must  learn  to  delight  in  the  pure,  simple,  quiet  beauty 
with  which  our  Father  adorns  the  home  of  his  earthly 
children.  Our  Lord  tells  us  that  the  most  magnifi- 
cent of  all  the  kings  of  Israel  could  not  come  forth  in 


CONSIDER  TJIE  LILIES.  229 

such  gorgeous  array  as  that  with  which  God  clothes  the 
humble  flower  of  the  field.  And  God  will  bring  this 
more  than  kingly  glory  into  the  house  of  any  one  who 
will  plant  a  seed  in  a  handful  of  earth  and  set  it  in 
the  window  for  the  light  to  look  upon. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  paintings  of  the  grea 
masters,  nothing  in  statuary,  nothing  in  the  most 
costly  and  elaborate  decorations  of  architecture,  to  be 
compared  with  the  simple  grace,  the  delicate  tints,  the 
perfect  harmony  of  a  flower  which  the  poorest  can 
cultivate  in  the  humblest  home.  Let  not  your  heart 
be  led  away,  then,  with  longing  for  the  artificial  splen- 
dors which  riches  alone  can  buy.  You  can  look  upon 
and  enjoy  God's  perfect  beauty  every  day  in  some  deli- 
cate flower  reared  by  your  own  hand  and  set  in  your 
own  window.  If  the  Divine  Teacher  himself  should 
come  to  your  house  and  hear  your  sighings  for  the 
costly  adornments  of  paintings  and  statuary  and  furni- 
ture and  dress,  he  would  point  to  the  rose,  or  the 
geranium,  or  the  hyacinth,  if  he  could  find  one  there, 
and  thus  rebuke  your  discontent :  I  say  unto  you  that 
all  the  glories  of  art  and  all  the  works  of  human 
hands  could  not  adorn  your  home  with  such  beauty  as 
God  has  given  to  this  little  flower,  which  is  all  your 
own  and  whose  cultivation  is  a  daily  delight. 

And  while  our  Saviour's  words  teach  us  to  look  upon 
the  flowers  with  something  like  reverent  and  religious 
affection,  we  should  learn  from  them  to  cultivate  in 
ourselves  the  quiet  grace  and  simplicity  which  belong 


in 

I"    ill'      <    lilldlen    ()f    (ioj.         The     I'l.lll     .lll<l    dehe.ih      heailly 

\\lueli   hlooniH  only   to  lade  nhonhl    awaken   in   n.:  ardent 
de    in,,     |o|      Hie     e\  ei  la    I  in;-      heailly     of     I K  >l  i  I  ir;  ;  I.        The 

MI  n. mi.  MI  of  .1.    me.  I.  mid  (jiiirl  ,",|>iril.  in  in  the  -a-hl  <>l 
<«••(!  of  greal     piiee         l!     i      indeed    nioie   |>ieeion..    id. in 
Illl     tllillgH    thai    genni      <  .in    <  n.ilr    or     ih-lir..    (.in     Imv. 
<  >!'  id  I    lliili^'H  thill,  :ii«    >  nil--  lil.    and  clicri,  lird  and  rid  I  i 

\    il'-d      HI     Mil.     \vnrld,    ihciT     IH     liotllillg    !:«>     |H-;III|  Mill    ill 
(iod'M  JUHI  «'    I  1111. ilc   ||M    .1    |MiM-    lirail.       TliriT   i  ,   nnlliillg 

HO  like  lieiivcn  IIH  it  (liMj)OHil ion  ever  limed,  uinid  all  (lie 
(Uncord  of  lli<  \\mld,  i<>  lli«  di\ine  harmony  <>l  Irulli 
and  lo\e.  The  UK  »,".(,  i  s|  lid  i<  »l|  ',  alleiilion  to  all  lliroii! 
vvurd  jU'ojniel  iea  and  coin  l«  K  ,  ol  hie  i  not  «><lleelnal 
II  Hlllrgliuid  in  Lerjun;-  <>nr  lioin  all  ilial  i  mi  jii.l  ••  .1 
mid  nnlx coining  in  npreeli  and  eondnel  a  tin  |>nii  ol 
geiiiniM  Ix  iie\ olenee  in  (lie  In. nl.  All  heanly  and 
^I'Mee,  nil  |H'ojirielv  and  coinclinOHH  (>{'  deport  inenl ,  lind 
a  lull  Mild  (illill<^  e\  |>i  <  ion  in  love.  Love  elol  IK •:;  l.||() 
I  I- -  with  light,  liU'lloWH  (he  \oi<-.-  \\ilh  iniiMie,  lendn 
liif  cluirin  ol  tniiniiuhle  "tare  lo  evcrylnini^  ;aid  mid 
done  in  il.i  ,  |>iiil.  ll  in  ilsell  HO  |>in«-.  exeelli  nl  and 

diNiix-     III     ll::    own     «       .-nlial     eliaiaelei      a        |o     L(<'|>    (lie 

heai  I  in  \\hieh  ii  n»i^;nH  in  Inu'inon)  \\ilh  (he  highest 
i«  a.ton  and  (he  jMTleelimi  «>!'  heanlv.  Man  COIIK  near*  I 
i"  (  iod  l>\  |MI  e  in'  (  <od';i  greatest  aUrihule,  lo\«\ 
l.o\e  i  I  he  heanly  ol  Iliin  who  i  lairer  lhan  all  Ihe 
.hddien  ol'  men.  ll  i  the  heanlv  \\hieh  he  nio  I 
d<  lie:  in  (hose  who  NY  on  I  (I  he  like  him  in  hlessediK 
and  glory.  When  the  heart  IB  Ulftde  ft  f,a  rdrn  lor  the 


'o  A  /.//'A1/,:  Till'.  1.  1  1.  1  1  231 


culture    ol    :ill     ineekne         .ind     ••enl.lcne;  :•;    ;unl     love( 
loHl.  iM-mily   of    l';n;idi    •     i      n     Ion  d,  ;md     !  he  c  \  <  i  l;i    I  i  n;- 
he;iul  y   of    IIC.-I.VCM    in   h<  •"iin   on   e;i,l  I  li. 

Tin-  flower,'  of   l.hc  field   I.ejicl.   ,,      mo   I    ;ili.  r|n,;-ly  l.h«- 
frillly    of   our     morhil     Hl.llln.        I'lvrry  !  hiii;-     ||i;i|,    filooin.. 
in   Ilic  whole  kiii;M|.,in  of  ii.-ilinc  liv«,:  only   l.o  di<-.     'I  I,. 
IkirOl  I    :if<-   Ill-'    l'i  :ii|.     I,  :in<l     I  li<-    UK.    I.    IM  .mi  ilul   I|K-   In    I 
'I  In-  "low  ol    life  r;un:il  IOIK  <l    ii|»on    (In     Munllill^  N-.-ilol 
lli<-     lo,  c     l.id*  •;;     while     you     ;;j»e;i|.     <,('    j|   ;     |)c;iuly.        Afhl 

nuc    hlic   (IJM)II     Ihf  eh.  •«  I.    of    I  he       |e<  |,in;.     ehihl     i;; 

ihlJII,    if    liol,    MM     ,0011,    l.o     l;i<|e.        Tln-n-     :ne     llxleed 
I.OIlie    lorili;!   of     Ve"('|;i||on      U'hoMC    I  I  |e    conl  IIHK     :     lor    ee|| 

lui  It!  'I  he  olj  .  e  I  i<  •  now  ;  |;IIK|III;'  in  I  IK  ;-;ir.|en  of 
<  ielh;  <'in;me  ;IM-  |  hou-Jil.  hy  ;  oiue  lo  he  |.|,«-  i,;ihM:  I  MM  . 
I"  IK  :il.li  wIlOHe,  i.h;i<|e  (  'h  i  i  I  howeil  him  e||'  in  ;i;'ony. 
'!  IK  r<  ;ne  I  T668  HOW  BtttlHlin"  IN  our  OWN  country 
who  e  hoii"h  ;  •/,<,,.,,,,,  vvhen  Ahr;ih:un  en  I  .n  I  ;i  i  ned 
:in;-<.|  ;  heii.;ilh  (he  hniiii-liinjr  oak  <lf  M;unre.  And 
v<  I  Iheh:.,.  :.nd  the  flower;  upon  I  In?  oldenl,  of  thtt 
|):il  i  i;ue|,  .  of  I.  In-  vvilderiK  .  onie,  lorl.h  only  lo  l;ide 

:ill«l      I'llll.          Ve;ir     hy     yc;ir     (hey      |I.K||      Ni:iN      I.  he.     .ohlnN 

le     on  of   hi,  own   niorl;i,lit,y. 

Woidd     you     know    wli:i.l.    will    ;:oon     heronn-    ol     lh:it, 

IVsuiMi    whirh    you    now    ;'_u:iid    :md    «'hei  i;  h    n.ud 

.•|<lorn    wil.h   e<,n    (.ml    rjin-,?      Look    :il.  I.  In-   hloHHOiriH  whieh 

j'l'in;'  him       I'orlJi    in    ii      he;iut,y.       When  {Miol.licr 

Hj.rin;'  COKK  -.,  ihey  will  heeh;ui".d  l,o  I,  IK-  dn  I.  of  ihe 

earth,  and  men  will  \n-.u\  upon  iln-m  vvilJioul/  IJiinkin^ 

th;tl,  tJicy  were  once  ;ilrve.       1  1,  m;iy  he  eyen   in   |e.   ,  l.j 


232  CONSIDER   THE  LILIES. 

than  a  year  that  God  will  fulfill  upon  your  living  and 
sensitive  frame  the  sentence  pronounced  of  old  upon 
the  whole  race :  "  Dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust  thou 
shalt  return."  The  living  will  walk  over  your  lowly 
bed  without  thinking  or  knowing  what  form  or  expres- 
sion once  belonged  to  the  dust  that  rests  beneath  their 
feet.  Let  the  frail  beauty  of  the  humble  flower  create 
in  you  irrepressible  longings  for  the  everlasting  beauty 
of  holiness.  Then,  when  the  deathless  soul  is  sent  forth 
from  its  perishable  habitation,  it  shall  be  transplanted  to 

' '  Those  everlasting  gardens, 
Where  angels  walk,  and  seraphs  are  the  wardens : 
Where  every  flower,  brought  safe  through  death's  dark  portal, 

Becomes  immortal." 

The  flowers  teach  us  the  great  lesson  of  trust  in 
God.  It  was  to  bring  this  lesson  home  to  our  hearts  in 
the  most  practical  form  that  our  Lord  said,  "  Consider 
the  lilies."  These  silent  and  beautiful  preachers  on 
divine  providence  love  the  open  air.  They  deliver 
millions  of  faultless  sermons  in  the  bright  sunshine  of 
every  spring  day,  on  the  grassy  hillsides  and  in  the 
green  valleys.  They  are  clothed  in  brighter  robes  than 
princes  wear.  Like  the  Divine  Preacher  on  the  Mount 
of  the  Beatitudes,  they  have  the  earth  for  a  pulpit  and 
the  blue  sky  for  the  ceiling  of  their  sanctuary.  The 
quiet  brooks  and  the  happy  birds  and  the  murmuring 
winds  sing  for  them.  It  makes  no  difference  with  them 
whether  anybody  praises  or  finds  fault  with 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES.  233 

preaching.  Their  prayers  are  perfumes  of  sweet 
incense  unto  God.  Their  voices  are  graceful  forms  and 
delicate  hues  blended  in  perfect  harmony.  Their 
appeals  are  as  quiet  as  the  ripple  on  the  sleeping  sea. 
Their  rebukes  fall  as  gently  as  the  sunbeam  falls  on 
the  winter  snow. 

And  these  beautiful  flowers,  these  bright  children  of 
the  sun,  all  preach  the  same  sermon  which  Christ  in- 
terpreted for  the  multitudes  on  the  Mount  of  the  Beati- 
tudes, and  that  is  trust  in  God,  a  cheerful  and  happy 
acquiescence  with  your  Father's  will — whatever  he  gives, 
whatever  he  takes  away.  The  beautiful  preachers  in 
the  gardens  and  the  fields  say  to  us,  "  God  careth  for 
us  whose  life  is  less  than  a  season.  Will  he  not  much 
more  care  for  you  whose  years,  like  his  own,  are  eter- 
nal ?  God  weaves  the  robe  of  inimitable  beauty  for  us 
who  perish  in  a  day.  Will  not  your  heavenly  Father 
bring  forth  still  better  robes  for  you,  who  must  live 
when  the  earth  is  burned  up  and  the  heavens  are 
removed  like  a  parched  scroll  ?" 

Anxiety  is  the  bane  of  human  happiness,  and  the 
blessed  flowers  come  every  year  with  the  same  bright 
and  cheery  hues  to  tell  us  God  has  not  forsaken  the 
world.  He  makes  them  just  as  beautiful  now  as  they 
were  in  Paradise,  to  show  us  that  his  loving-kindness 
changes  not.  Man  was  banished  from  Paradise  because 
he  dishonored  the  fruit  of  its  flowers.  And  yet  the 
flowers  in  pity  came  forth  to  cheer  the  exile  in  his 
wanderings,  and  to  remind  him  that  God's  love  is  with 


234  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

him  everywhere  to  draw  him  back  to  his  lost  home. 
And  to  this  day,  while  the  earth  still  groans  under  the 
curse  of  man's  sin,  the  thistle  wears  a  beautiful  blossom 
and  the  thorn  is  crowned  with  the  rose. 

So  God  always  mingles  blessing  with  chastisement. 
So  he  sends  some  beams  of  heaven's  light  into  the  sad- 
dest home.  The  one  thing  needed  to  make  us  contented 
in  any  lot  is  the  belief  that  God  has  not  forsaken  us 
nor  will  forsake  us.  And  Jesus  teaches  us  to  draw  this 
f  faith  from  the  lilies  of  the  field.  It  is  not  slighting  or 
dishonoring  God's  book  to  obey  Christ's  word,  "  Con- 
sider the  lilies."  When  your  home  seems  dark,  and 
you  cannot  read  the  blessed  promises  in  God's  word 
because  your  eyes  are  blinded  with  tears,  turn  to  the 
first  flower  you  can  find  in  the  garden  or  by  the  road- 
side— the  simplest  is  the  best.  Look  upon  it  as  it  opens 
its  buds  to  welcome  the  morning,  and  say  in  your  sad 
heart,  "O  thou  silent  preacher  of  trust  in  Divine 
Providence,  teach  me  to  rejoice  as  much  in  the  light  of 
God's  countenance  as  thou  rejoicest  in  the  light  of  the 
sun."  And  then  do  not  be  afraid  to  believe  that  He 
who  brings  up  the  humble  flower  from  the  cold,  dead 
earth  and  opens  its  beauty  to  the  sun,  will  bring  you 
forth  with  joy  from  the  saddest  hour,  and  change  the 
night  of  sorrow  and  trouble  into  the  full  day  of  hope 
and  gladness. 

"We  all  know  the  story  of  the  sermon  preached  to 
Mungo  Park  by  the  little  flower  in  the  desert.  He 
had  been  robbed  by  savages  and  left  to  perish  in  the 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES.  235 

wilderness  of  Central  Africa.  Without  food  or  cloth- 
ing, five  hundred  miles  from  any  European  settlement, 
surrounded  by  savage  beasts  and  men  more  savage,  he 
was  filled  with  amazement  and  terror.  He  saw  nothing 
left  him  but  to  lie  down  in  the  desert  and  die.  Just 
then  his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  extraordinary 
beauty  of  a  delicate  little  flower,  no  larger  than  the  end 
of  one's  finger,  blooming  by  his  side.  And  he  said  to 
himself,  "  Can  that  great  Being  who  planted,  watered 
and  brought  to  perfection  this  small  flower  in  this 
obscure  part  of  the  world,  look  with  unconcern  upon 
the  condition  and  sufferings  of  one  made  in  his  own 
image  and  destined  to  live  for  ever  ?"  The  simple 
thought  saved  the  brave  and  strong-hearted  man  from 
despair.  He  started  up  and  pressed  on,  assured  that 
help  was  at  hand.  And  he  was  not  disappointed.  He 
was  saved  by  the  sermon  upon  trust  in  Divine  Provi- 
dence preached  to  him  by  that  small  flower  in  the 
desert. 

There  are  times  when  the  journey  of  life  seems  to  us 
like  that  which  Park  was  pursuing  alone  in  the  wilds 
of  a  strange  land.  The  feeling  of  discouragement 
steals  over  us  in  spite  of  all  our  resolutions  to  resist  and 
shake  it  off.  It  casts  a  shadow  upon  every  prospect, 
and  lays  a  heavy  burden  upon  shoulders  that  are 
already  weary.  It  makes  us  dissatisfied  with  every- 
thing that  we  ever  have  done,  and  it  persuades  us  to 
believe  that  we  shall  never  do  any  better  in  the  future. 
It  tells  us  that  life  is  a  conflict,  in  which  success  gives 


236  CONSIDER  THE  LILIES. 

no  satisfaction  and  the  mortification  of  defeat  has  no 
alleviation.  It  makes  the  strong  man  weak,  and  the 
courageous  a  coward.  Under  its  depressing  influences 
the  hopeful  despond,  the  patient  complain  and  the 
believing  are  faithless.  All  great,  strong,  sensitive 
souls  know  what  it  is  to  wrestle  with  this  terrible  demon 
of  despondency.  And  in  the  blind  and  baffling  con- 
flict they  have  often  drawn  strength  and  victory  from 
sources  as  humble  as  the  flowering  moss  that  preached 
to  Park  in  the  wilderness. 

And  God  has  sent  out  the  flowers  as  missionaries  of 
hope  and  blessing  all  over  the  earth.  He  has  appointed 
ten  thousand  trifling  incidents  in  our  daily  life  to 
preach  to  us  the  great  lesson  of  trust  in  him.  And 
when  we  are  ready  to  sink  in  despair,  we  have  only  to 
heed  these  silent  and  gentle  preachers,  and  we  shall 
receive  strength  and  faith  to  take  up  our  burden 
and  resume  our  march,  assured  that  He  who  clothes  the 
lilies  of  the  field  with  glory,  and  feeds  the  fowls  of  the 
air  when  they  cry,  will  not  forget  to  make  better  pro- 
vision for  his  own  children. 


[t    <f0fols    Of   %    &fr. 


Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air :  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor 
Bather  into  barns  ;  yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much 
better  than  they  ? — MATT.  vi.  26. 


XI. 

THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

HARD  study  is  sometimes  made  easy  and 
inviting  by  having  an  agreeable  teacher.  Our 
Lord  gives  us  this  advantage  for  our  profit  when 
he  puts  us  under  the  tuition  of  the  fowls  of  the 
air,  to  learn  the  hard  lesson  of  faith  in  God  when 
earthly  hopes  fail,  and  freedom  from  anxiety  when 
earthly  cares  abound.  Of  all  the  living  tribes  that 
God  has  made  subject  to  man  for  his  support  and 
instruction,  birds  are  the  most  attractive,  the  most 
interesting  and  the  most  beautiful.  Birds  are  to  the 
animal  creation  what  flowers  are  to  the  vegetable  world ; 
what  precious  stones  are  to  the  golden  crown;  what  the 
finished  capital  is  to  the  fluted  column ;  what  the  bril- 
liant rainbow  is  to  the  blackened  cloud;  what  the 
purple  dawn  is  to  the  starry  night  and  the  shining  day 
—a  superadded  ornament,  an  efflorescence  of  beauty  and 
delight,  a  final  touch  of  the  creative  Hand,  giving  the 
charm  of  exuberant  grace  to  the  work  that  was  perfect 
before.  In  order  that  creation  should  be  complete,  it 
was  not  necessary  that  the  flowers  should  breathe  per- 
fume, and  the  birds  should  warble  melodies,  and  the 

239 


240  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

bow  of  beauty  should  span  the  cloud,  and  the  morning 
should  come  forth  "  arrayed  in  gold  imperial."  God 
has  enriched  our  earthly  home  with  all  these  excel- 
lences of  beauty  that  every  faculty  of  our  being  might 
have  full  employment  in  finding  out  his  perfect  work, 
and  that  our  cup  of  blessing  might  run  over. 

Whether  we  regard  the  graceful  forms  of  the  feath- 
ered tribes,  their  delicate  and  brilliant  plumage,  their 
swift  and  varied  motions,  or  their  happy  voices,  we 
shall  find  much  to  behold  with  admiration  and  to  study 
with  delight.  They  move  with  so  much  ease  and 
rapidity  in  all  directions  through  the  invisible  air  that 
they  remind  us  of  spiritual  beings,  and  they  seem  to 
belong  to  the  heavens  rather  than  the  earth.  The 
Divine  Teacher  himself  calls  them  fowls  of  heaven, 
and  they  are  often  so  named  elsewhere  in  the  Sacred 
Scriptures.  The  Psalmist,  when  overwhelmed  with 
earthly  afflictions  and  sorrows,  poured  out  his  heart  in 
longing  for  the  freedom  and  buoyancy  which  belong  to 
the  winged  inhabitants  of  the  air :  "  Oh  that  I  had 
wings  like  a  dove !  for  then  would  I  fly  away  and  be  at 
rest."  When  the  prophet  was  instructed  to  promise 
the  greatest  possible  blessing  to  those  that  wait  on  the 
Lord,  he  said,  "They  shall  mount  up  on  wing3  as 
eagles." 

The  life  of  the  birds  is  well  chosen  in  the  Scriptures 
as  a  symbol  of  exemption  from  earthly  care  and  afflic- 
tion. They  come  and  go  with  the  summer  and  the 
flowers.  They  return  in  the  spring  with  sorgs  of 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  241 

gladness,  and  they  depart  in  autumn  with  the  happy 
voices  of  pilgrims  starting  upon  a  pleasant  journey. 
It  is  home  with  them  here  while  they  stay,  and  they  are 
drawn  not  the  less  by  the  attractions  of  home  when 
they  go.  When  the  winds  grow  sharp  and  the  frosts 
change  the  garments  of  the  forests  and  fields  to  mourn- 
ing, the  light-hearted  birds  have  nothing  to  do  but 
spread  their  joyous  wings  and  seek  a  more  genial 
clime. 

So  lives  the  cheerful,  trusting  child  of  God  who  has 
learned  to  lay  all  his  care  upon  an  infinite  Helper  and 
be  at  peace.  He  has  two  homes — one  here  and  one  far 
away.  While  the  season  of  work  and  duty  lasts,  he  is 
happy  to  stay  in  this ;  and  when  God's  good  time  comes, 
he  is  still  happy  to  go.  He  is  content  to  toil  on  and 
bear  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  while  strength  is 
given  him  to  toil.  And  when  the  winter  of  age  or  in- 
firmity comes,  and  the  chill  of  death  invades  this  earthly 
tabernacle,  and  the  frail  garment  of  mortality  can  no 
longer  shelter  the  soul,  then  on  joyous  wing 

"The  ransomed  spirit  to  her  home, 

The  clime  of  cloudless  beauty,  flies; 
No  more  on  stormy  seas  to  roam, 
She  hails  her  haven  in  the  skies." 

Of  all  the  animal  tribes  the  birds  alone  have  musical 
voices,  and  they  only  are  susceptible  to  the  power  of 
music.  To  this  day  we  may  stand  on  the  shores  of  the 
Sea  of  Galilee,  where  our  Lord  went  forth  to  teach  the 
multitude  in  the  light  of  the  early  morning,  and  we 


242  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

can  hear  the  note  of  the  lark  rising,  silvery  and  joyous, 
higher  and  higher,  as  if  the  tireless  singer  were  ambi- 
tious to  carry  the  song  of  praise  to  the  very  gates  of 
heaven.  And  while  we  listen,  entranced  with  the 
rising  melody,  the  whole  sky  will  become  vocal  with 
invisible  choristers,  as  if  winged  seraphs  had  come 
down  to  join  the  happy  birds  in  singing  praises  to  Him 
who  brings  the  day. 

Birds  sing  in  the  morning  to  remind  us  of  our  duty 
and  our  privilege  to  present  a  grateful  and  holy  offer- 
ing to  Him  who  has  kept  us  in  the  night,  and  who 
alone  can  guard  us  in  the  day.  Birds  sing  when  the 
sun  goes  down  to  turn  our  thoughts  to  Him  whose 
mercies  are  new  every  morning  and  fresh  every  night. 
Birds  sing  in  the  close  prison  of  the  cage  as  well  as  in 
the  wild  freedom  of  the  forest,  to  teach  us  that  in  the 
lowliest  home  and  in  the  most  distressed  condition  we 
may  yet  pour  out  our  hearts  in  praise — we  may  find 
abundant  reasons  for  gratitude  to  God.  Birds  sing 
when  suffering  pain  and  when  pining  with  home- 
sickness and  solitude,  to  teach  us,  with  the  martyr's 
faith  and  the  victor's  joy,  to  lift  up  our  hymn  of 
triumph  from  the  unsounded  depths  of  human  woe. 
Birds  sing  when  cruel  hands  have  put  out  their  eyes 
and  left  them  nothing  but  a  life  of  darkness,  that  we 
may  learn  in  the  darkest  day  and  the  deepest  grief  still 
to  go  singing  on  our  way  to  the  land  of  light  and  realm 
of  glory. 

When  one  bird  sings,  all  that  are  within  hearing  will 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  243 

break  forth  into  song.  And  thus  the  happy  choristers 
set  to  music  the  sacred  charge  enjoined  upon  our  hearts 
to  weep  with  those  that  weep  and  rejoice  with  those 
that  rejoice.  Their  voices  are  full  of  feeling,  and  they 
are  quick  to  catch  the  feeling  which  any  voice  conveys. 
They  call  to  each  other  with  tones  which  'express  their 
longing  for  the  society  of  friends.  They  woo  their 
mates  with  the  soft  and  tender  strains  of  love.  They 
alarm  each  other  with  the  shrill  and  startling  cry 
which  warns  of  coming  danger.  They  shout  in  the 
fierce  accents  of  defiance  when  the  spoiler  attacks  the 
innocent  and  helpless.  They  moan  in  the  bitter  and 
heartbreaking  measures  of  inconsolable  sorrow  when 
their  nests  are  robbed  by  the  spoiler  and  their  little  ones 
are  sold  into  bondage.  They  call  their  young  in  such 
accents  of  affection  as  the  child  loves  to  hear  in  the 
mother's  voice.  They  put  on  the  aspect  of  mourning, 
and  they  manifest  a  sincere  and  unostentatious  grief 
when  their  beloved  companions  are  taken  away  by  death. 
These  things,  which  birds  have  in  common  with 
man,  make  them  peculiarly  fit  to  teach  us  the  great 
lesson  of  freedom  from  worldly  care  and  faith  in  our 
common  Father  in  heaven.  They  begin  and  close  the 
day  with  song,  and  spend  their  life  in  music  and  glad- 
ness, to  teach  us  that  we  can  always  find  something  to 
make  us  sing  and  rejoice,  if  only  we  trust  our  Father's 
word  and  keep  a  grateful  heart.  The  birds,  with  all 
their  quick  and  passionate  and  tender  sensibilities,  with 
all  their  exposure  to  want  and  pain  and  wrong,  are  set 


244  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

before  us  by  the  Divine  Master  to  teach  us  the  great 
lesson  of  contentment  with  the  day  and  trust  for  the 
morrow. 

Birds  live  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  and  they  become 
attached  to  all  sorts  of  homes.  It  is  easy  to  learn  from 
them  how  little  difference  it  makes  where  we  are  or 
what  homes  we  live  in,  provided  we  depend  on  our 
Father's  care,  and  our  souls  are  ready  at  any  time  to 
wing  their  flight  to  our  Father's  house.  Birds  build 
their  nests  in  the  trunks  of  decayed  trees  and  on  the 
green  branches  that  swing  in  the  storm.  They  sleep 
in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  and  under  the  coping  of  the 
ivy-mantled  tower.  They  make  a  home  for  their  brood 
in  the  waving  grass  of  the  meadow  and  on  the  bare 
cliffs  of  the  mountain — in  the  tangled  thicket  of  the 
forest  and  on  the  naked  sand  of  the  desert.  And  God 
keeps  the  house  of  the  secure  and  trustful  builders  with 
equal  care — whether  it  be  the  eagle's,  on  the  cold  crag 
amid  clouds  and  tempests,  or  the  humming  bird's,  hang- 
ing on  the  end  of  a  twig  in  some  sheltered  grove  of  the 
green  valley. 

And  so  the  birds  teach  us  to  trust  the  keeping  of  our 
homes,  without  fear  or  anxiety,  to  Him  who  never 
slumbers  nor  sleeps,  assured  that  no  plague  can  come 
nigh  our  dwelling  and  no  calamity  can  befall  our  fami- 
lies against  the  will  of  our  Father.  The  home  is  safe 
when  God  keeps  it.  He  who  guards  the  nest  of  the  un- 
fledged bird  will  not  forget  the  cradle  of  the  little  ones, 
whose  angels  do  always  behold  his  face  in  heaven.  The 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  245 

lowliest  cottage  and  the  meanest  apartment  with  God's 
blessing  are  better  than  thrones  and  palaces  without  it. 

Birds  travel  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  They  go  in  flocks 
and  alone.  They  fly  high  in  the  air  and  they  skim 
close  to  the  ground.  They  soar  above  the  clouds  and 
they  walk  in  the  dust ;  they  swim  on  the  water,  and 
they  wade  beneath  the  surface  of  the  sea.  They  float 
with  motionless  wings  in  the  air,  like  ships  becalmed 
on  the  ocean ;  they  sport  at  graceful  ease,  and  they  out- 
strip the  tempest  in  flight.  They  gather  their  food  OD 
the  wing,  and  they  seek  it  in  the  mire  and  filth  of  the 
earth.  They  sip  the  honey  of  the  opening  flower  and 
they  taste  the  fresh  fruit  on  the  tree.  They  accept  the 
food  which  everything  else  rejects,  and  they  rejoice  in 
abundance  when  everything  else  wants.  So  our  hea- 
venly Father  feedeth  them,  and  they  are  contented  to 
live  and  fly  and  sing  for  gladness  just  as  he  has  ap- 
pointed. They  ascend  the  heavens  without  pride  and 
they  walk  in  the  dust  without  shame.  They  trim  their 
plumes  with  the  greatest  care  where  there  are  none  to 
praise  their  beauty,  and  they  sing  their  sweetest  note 
with  equal  joy  in  the  mansion  of  the  rich  or  ut  the  cot- 
tage door. 

And  so  the  free  and  happy  birds  would  teach  us  to 
be  content  to  do  our  Father's  will,  whether  we  pursue 
the  journey  of  life  in  carriages  of  ease  or  walk  with  a 
pilgrim's  staff.  The  dazzling  equipage  which  flashes 
its  splendors  on  the  street  in  passing  can  carry  nothing 
more  precious  than  the  human  soul.  And  that  treasure 


246  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

is  stored  in  the  bosom  of  him  who  wears  the  meanest 
garb  and  pursues  the  lowliest  occupation.  Let  the  im- 
mortal spirit  hold  high  converse  with  God  and  keep  its 
wings  plumed  for  flight  to  its  heavenly  home,  and  it 
will  not  suffer  much  anxiety  about  the  mode  in  which 
the  journey  of  this  earthly  life  must  be  pursued.  If  we 
can  see  Jesus  and  the  hosts  of  the  blessed  waiting  to 
receive  us  at  the  end  of  our  journey,  it  will  not  trouble 
us  much  if  we  have  to  pursue  a  very  humble  path  and 
live  upon  very  simple  fare  on  the  way. 

And  we  may  learn  the  same  lesson  of  faith  and  con- 
tentment from  the  brilliant  robes  worn  by  the  fowls  of 
the  air.  All  the  artists  in  the  world  could  not  equal 
the  delicacy  of  structure  and  beauty  of  coloring  which 
God  has  given  to  the  goodly  feathers  of  the  peacock 
and  the  ostrich,  and  which  fall  in  silvery  light  around 
the  neck  of  the  dove.  Take  a  single  plume  from  the 
golden  pheasant  or  the  bird  of  paradise,  and  examine 
the  minutest  thread  and  filament  of  the  structure  with 
the  microscope,  and  it  will  only  appear  the  more  won- 
derful for  lightness  and  grace  the  more  it  is  studied. 
When  these  bright  and  joyous  creatures  are  seen  by 
the  naturalist  in  their  native  home,  floating  and  flash- 
ing like  meteors  through  the  forest,  he  stands  amazed 
and  silent,  as  if  he  had  seen  a  vision  of  heavenly  beauty. 
Although  he  has  traveled  half  round  the  globe  to 
secure  the  treasure,  when  he  sees  the  bird  which  is 
ritly  named  from  Paradise  in  the  wild  freedom  of  East- 
ern climes,  he  feels  as  if  it  would  be  something  like 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR,  247 

sacrilege  to  aim  the  deadly  shot  at  a  living  creature  on 
whose  dazzling  plumes  the  Divine  Hand  has  poured 
all  stars  and  gems  in  sparkling  showers. 

And  if  God  clothes  the  birds  of  the  air  with  robes 
of  such  brilliant  hues  and  such  elaborate  workmanship, 
will  he  not  provide  garments  of  immortal  splendor  for 
the  soul  that  longs  for  purity  and  dreads  nothing  so 
much  as  the  dishonor  and  defilement  of  sin  ?  If  God 
makes  the  birds  so  beautiful  that  we  may  behold  them 
with  delight,  may  we  not  trust  without  an  anxious 
thought  that  the  bounties  of  his  providence  will  answer 
all  our  wants  ? 

And  it  is  not  alone  the  rare  and  resplendent  inhab- 
itants of  tropical  groves  and  distant  lands  that  are 
worthy  to  receive  our  most  devout  and  admiring  atten- 
tion. The  plain  and  common  birds  that  may  be  seen 
on  any  summer's  day  in  the  open  country  or  in  city 
parks,  the  multitudes  that  the  traveler  still  finds  among 
the  hills  of  Galilee  and  on  the  waters  of  the  lake  where 
our  Saviour  taught,  may  still  teach  us  the  lessons  of 
divine  wisdom.  They  rise  on  the  wing ;  they  wake  the 
morning  with  their  song ;  they  burnish  their  plumes 
in  the  sun ;  they  build  their  nest  among  the  branches ; 
they  dart  in  waving  lines  and  they  float  in  graceful 
circles  in  the  air;  they  gather  their  food  by  the 
wayside;  they  come  and  go  with  the  seasons;  they 
make  their  life  a  holiday  of  joy  and  song,  just  as 
they  did  when  our  Lord  pointed  to  the  singing  and 
soaring  flocks  around  him  as  he  spoke  in  the  open 


-248  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

fields  to  the  multitude  and  said,  "  Behold  the  fowls  of 
the  air." 

God  has  made  them  all  subject  to  man.  Their  varied 
plumes,  their  peculiar  notes,  their  habits  and  instincts 
and  modes  of  living,  have  all  been  given  them  by  our 
heavenly  Father  to  make  them  instructive  and  profit- 
able to  us.  And  we  can  easily  group  together  some  of 
the  sacred  lessons  which  they  are  appointed  to  teach 
if  we  observe  the  fowls  of  the  air  which  are  most  fre- 
quently named  in  the  Scriptures. 

Of  all  the  birds  of  the  Bible,  the  dove  is  the  most 
sacred.  It  is  everywhere  the  symbol  of  meekness,  of 
innocence  and  love.  Its  gentle  voice,  its  graceful 
motions,  its  fidelity  to  its  mates,  its  spotless  purity,  its 
fondness  for  home  and  the  dwellings  of  man,  its  artless 
simplicity  and  its  love  of  peace,  make  it  a  fit  represent- 
ative of  holy  dispositions  and  heavenly  rest. 

When  the  waters  of  the  Deluge  were  assuaged  and 
the  ark  rested  on  the  mountains,  Noah  sent  forth  a 
dove  as  a  messenger  of  peace  and  reconciliation  between 
man  and  the  avenging  flood.  And  when  the  winged 
herald  came  back  from  her  long  flight,  bringing  a  green 
olive  leaf  plucked  fresh  from  the  branch,  Noah  under- 
stood the  sign  that  the  Divine  Voice  had  stilled  the 
angry  tempests,  and  the  forfeited  inheritance  of  earth 
should  be  given  back  to  man  for  his  possession. 

So  when  our  souls  have  been  beaten  and  tossed,  like 
Noah's  ark,  for  many  days  by  the  tempests  of  affliction 
and  sorrow,  when  the  heavens  of  our  hopes  have  been 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  249 

Darkened  by  thick  clouds,  and  all  our  beautiful  things 
of  earth  have  been  swept  from  us  by  the  billows  of 
disaster,  then  the  spirit  of  divine  consolation  comes,  in 
semblance  like  Noah's  dove,  with  the  message  of  peace 
and  reconciliation.  Then  light  breaks  upon  the  dark- 
ness, the  clouds  are  scattered  from  the  face  of  the  sky, 
a  heavenly  calm  steals  in  upon  our  hearts,  and  we 
breathe  forth  the  grateful  song : 

"Oh  who  could  bear  life's  stormy  doom, 

Did  not  thy  wing  of  love 
Come  brightly  wafting  through  the  gloom 
Our  peace-branch  from  above?" 

We  have  only  to  trust  and  wait  in  the  time  of  our 
greatest  trial,  and  God  will  set  his  bow  of  promise  in 
the  cloud,  and  when  the  tempest  is  past,  renew  with  us, 
as  he  did  with  Noah,  the  covenant  of  everlasting  peace. 
s-  God  has  promised  that  the  least  of  his  people  shall  be 
more  glorious  than  the  kings  of  the  earth,  and  their 
robes  shall  be  as  the  wings  of  a  dove  covered  with  silver 
and  burnished  with  gold. 

When  our  Lord  went  up  from  the  baptism  of  Jordan, 
and  the  heavens  were  opened  unto  him  to  declare  his 
divine  commission  for  the  conquest  of  the  world,  the 
spirit  of  wisdom  and  of  power,  of  meekness  and  of 
love,  descended  upon  him  in  the  likeness  of  a  dove. 
He  sent  forth  his  own  disciples  to  meet  and  overcome 
all  the  powers  and  terrors  of  the  earth  with  the  inno- 
cence and  gentleness  of  the  dove.  And  so  evermore 
it  is  by  gentleness  that  God  makes  his  people  great. 


250  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 

By  innocence  and  purity  alone  can  they  acquire  the 
dominion  of  the  world.  The  inheritance  of  the  earth 
is  promised  to  the  meek. 

The  sparrow  named  in  the  Scriptures  is  a  busy,  noisy 
little  bird,  that  flutters  and  twitters  around  dilapidated 
walls  in  the  city  and  beside  all  the  highways  and  foot- 
paths in  the  Holy  Land.  It  is  so  tame  and  fearless 
that  it  will  scarcely  move  out  of  the  way  for  the 
traveler.  It  builds  its  nest  on  the  battlements  and  in 
the  windows  of  houses,  under  the  very  eye  and  within 
reach  of  the  hands  of  the  inhabitants.  It  is  so  com- 
mon and  so  small  that  a  dead  sparrow  in  the  path 
would  be  as  little  noticed  as  an  insect  or  a  worm.  And 
yet  to  all  readers  of  the  words  of  Jesus  every  motion 
and  twitter  of  these  busy  little  birds  preaches  a  sermon 
upon  God's  providential  care.  Not  one  of  them  can 
fall  to  the  ground  without  our  Father.  The  pain  with 
which  the  sparrow  dies  may  be  less  than  many  of  us 
suffer  every  hour.  And  yet  that  pain  touches  the 
heart  of  infinite  love.  If  God  thinks  of  us  so  kindly 
and  so  constantly,  shall  we  not  think  of  him  with 
thankfulness  and  trust  ?  If  the  death  of  the  sparrow 
be  an  event  worthy  to  receive  the  attention  of  the 
infinite  God,  how  much  more  must  he  care  for  the  life 
and  the  happiness  of  beings  that  must  enjoy  or  suffer 
for  ever !  If  our  Father  feeds  the  little  bird  while  it 
lives,  and  feels  for  it  when  it  dies,  can  we  not  trust  him 
etill,  even  when  our  fearful  and  fainting  hearts  are 
ready  to  burst  forth  in  the  bitter  cry  of  the  cross,  My 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  251 

God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  There  is 
no  way  in  which  we  wrong  our  heavenly  Father  more 
than  by  giving  ourselves  up  to  ungrateful  complaints 
and  unnecessary  anxieties,  and  forgetting  that  He  who 
feedeth  the  young  ravens  when  they  cry  has  promised 
that  there  should  be  no  want  to  them  that  fear  him. 

The  fowls  of  the  air  teach  us  to  regard  the  lessons 
of  Divine  Providence  in  the  seasons  of  the  year  and 
the  changing  periods  of  life.  There  is  a  striking  pas- 
sage in  the  prophet  Jeremiah  to  this  effect :  "  The  stork 
in  the  heaven  knoweth  her  appointed  times ;  and  the 
turtle  and  the  crane  and  the  swallow  observe  the  time 
of  their  coming."  The  winter  finds  the  stork  far  away 
among  the  highlands  of  Ethiopia.  When  the  ap- 
pointed day  comes,  as  if  moved  by  a  divine  inspiration, 
she  spreads  her  wings  for  her  long  flight.  A  thousand 
miles  down  the  Valley  of  the  Nile,  a  thousand  more 
across  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and 
on  still  over  Alps  and  Apennines,  over  sunny  vineyards 
and  snowy  mountains  to  Holland  and  Denmark,  and 
over  the  Baltic  to  Sweden  and  Norway,  the  stork  pur- 
sues her  aerial  journey  till  she  finds  the  same  old  tower 
and  rebuilds  the  nest  of  the  former  year.  And  the 
bird  would  sooner  die  than  shorten  the  journey  or 
fail  to  start  at  the  appointed  time.  No  matter  what 
storms  may  darken  the  air,  or  what  sunny  climes  may 
invite  her  to  rest  on  the  way,  she  goes,  guided  by  a 
mysterious  and  divine  instinct,  straight  to  her  old 
home,  and  never  rests  till  there. 


252  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR, 

And  the  inspired  prophet  tells  us  that  the  punctual- 
ity of  the  migratory  bird  may  well  teach  us  to  regard 
the  times  of  God's  gracious  visitation.  The  persever- 
ance, the  undeviating  constancy  with  which  the  aerial 
voyager  pursues  her  long  journey  through  storm  and 
sunshine  till  she  reaches  her  destination,  may  well 
stimulate  us  to  press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of 
the  high  calling.  We  all  have  a  home  of  cloudless 
beauty — a  land  of  serene  and  joyful  rest  to  seek.  To 
our  feeble  faith  it  seems  far  away,  and  it  can  be  reached 
only  through  clouds  and  storms.  But  the  inspiration 
of  the  Almighty  has  awakened  within  us  a  longing  for 
such  a  home,  just  as  truly  as  a  divine,  God-given  in- 
stinct impels  the  stork  and  the  dove,  the  crane  and  the 
swallow,  to  observe  their  appointed  times  and  start 
upon  their  long  journeys.  If  they  should  resist  the 
mysterious  impulse  to  go,  and  should  stay  until  they 
died  upon  their  frozen  nests  in  the  cold  north,  or  they 
perished  with  equal  certainty  of  excessive  heat  in  the 
south,  they  would  not  be  acting  more  in  opposition  to  the 
demands  of  their  nature  than  does  the  soul  that  clings 
to  earth  and  neglects  the  divine  admonition  to  be  in 
constant  readiness  to  spread  its  wings  and  fly  to  a 
better  land. 

The  instructions  of  God's  word  and  the  dealings  of 
Divine  Providence  with  us,  from  day  to  day,  are  all 
appointed  to  teach  us  that  we  cannot  always  remain 
here.  Our  only  safety  must  consist  in  breaking  loose 
from  earthly  entanglements,  and  holding  ourselves 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  253 

ready  for  the  heavenward  journey.  All  signs  and 
seasons,  all  changes  and  conflicts,  all  blessings  and 
enjoyments,  all  losses  and  disappointments,  warn  us  to 
keep  our  eye  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  journey  on 
which  all  must  go — from  which  none  return.  The  way 
may  seem  dark  and  long,  and  yet  the  only  part  of  the 
course  which  is  dark  to  the  eye  of  faith  is  that  which 
lies  dimly  within  sight  of  this  earthly  home.  The 
darkness  and  the  doubt  are  all  here,  where  the  fearful 
and  the  faithless  would  stay.  The  life  and  the  light 
are  all  yonder,  where  the  trusting  and  watchful  would 
go.  The  higher  the  flight  of  our  faith,  the  more  serene 
and  joyous  will  be  our  journey  to  the  heavenly  land. 
We  shall  do  well  to  imitate  the  lofty  range  of  the  dove, 
and  to  make  the  prayer  of  the  poet  our  own , 

"The  bird  let  loose  in  Eastern  skies, 

Returning  fondly  home, 
Ne'er  stoops  to  earth  her  wing,  nor  flies 
Where  idle  warblers  roam. 

"  But  high  she  shoots,  through  air  and  light, 

Above  all  low  delay, 

Where  nothing  earthly  bounds  her  flight, 
Nor  shadow  dims  her  way. 

"So  grant  me,  Lord,  from  every  snare 

Of  sinful  passion  free, 
Aloft  through  faith's  serener  air 
To  hold  my  course  to  thee. 

"  No  sin  to  cloud,  no  lure  to  stay 
My  soul,  as  home  she  springs. 
Thy  sunshine  on  her  joyful  way, 
Thy  freedom  in  her  wings." 


254  THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  every  step  of  our  present 
course  will  be  one  of  peace  and  of  apparent  safety.  There 
would  be  no  discipline  in  watchfulness  and  self-com- 
mand if  we  could  always  see  the  Everlasting  Arms 
around  us  for  our  protection.  The  highest  flight  is 
the  most  clear  and  joyous,  but  it  requires  the  strongest 
wing  and  the  bravest  heart.  The  surest  way  to  the 
light  may  seem  darkest  for  a  while.  The  eagle  of  the 
Alps  is  sometimes  beaten  down  by  the  tempest  into  the 
narrow  defiles  of  the  mountains.  The  clouds  in  black 
and  angry  masses  sweep  between  the  mighty  bird  and 
the  sunny  heights  where  she  builds  her  nest  and  basks 
in  the  full  day.  For  a  while  she  dashes  to  and  fro, 
buffeting  the  storm  with  her  strong  wings  and  waking 
the  echoes  of  the  mountains  with  her  wild  cry,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  find  some  way  out  of  her  dark  and 
high-walled  prison.  At  length  she  dashes  upward 
with  a  scream  of  triumph  into  the  midst  of  the  black 
clouds,  and  in  a  moment  she  is  above  them  in  the  calm 
sunshine,  with  the  darkness  and  the  tempest  all  be- 
neath, the  light  of  heaven  shining  in  full  blaze  upon 
her  conquering  pinions,  and  her  loved  home  on  the 
lofty  crag  in  full  sight  waiting  to  receive  her.  It  is 
through  the  darkness  that  she  rushes  into  the  light 
It  is  by  a  mighty  effort  to  ascend  that  she  leaves  the 
clouds  and  the  storms  of  earth  beneath. 

So  by  a  firm  decision  and  a  mighty  effort  must  we 
rise  above  all  the  clouds  of  doubt  and  fear  to  the  serene 
heights  of  faith  and  peace  in  God.  So  through  the 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR.  255 

darkness  of  trouble  and  conflict  and  death  must  we 
pass  into  heaven's  eternal  day. 

This  world  affords  most  pleasure  and  profit  to  him 
who  makes  it  his  servant  and  never  permits  it  to  become 
his  master.  It  is  only  while  keeping  the  world,  with 
all  its  passions,  pleasures  and  temptations,  beneath  our 
feet  that  we  are  safe.  I  have  seen  the  bird  of  prey  in 
chase  of  the  timid  dove.  The  dove  knew  that  the 
hawk,  in  making  its  attack,  must  swoop  down  from  a 
loftier  height.  And  so  the  defenceless  creature  rose, 
circle  above  circle,  higher  and  higher,  toward  heaven. 
Above  the  hills  and  above  the  mountains,  and  above  the 
morning  clouds,  the  panting  fugitive  climbed  with 
laboring  wing,  and  all  the  while  the  eager  hawk  went 
screaming  after,  striving  in  vain  to  reach  a  loftier 
height  from  which  to  rush  down,  like  a  thunderbolt, 
and  seize  the  prey.  But  the  dove  was  safe  so  long  as 
she  continued  to  soar.  She  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  talons  of  her  rapacious  foe  so  long  as  she  suffered 
nothing  to  entice  her  back  to  the  earth.  But  once  let 
her  cease  to  rise,  and  her  watchful  enemy  would  soon 
reach  a  loftier  elevation,  and  from  thence  shoot  down 
with  deadly  aim  for  her  destruction. 

So  is  it  with  us  in  pur  lifelong  conflict  with  the 
seductions  and  temptations  of  the  world.  So  long  as 
we  keep  them  under,  we  are  safe.  So  long  as  we 
set  our  affections  on  things  above,  and  continue  to 
rise  higher  and  higher  in  the  successive  attainments  of 
a  pure  and  blameless  life,  the  world  may  toil  after  us 


256 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  AIR. 


with  its  temptations  in  vain.  To  be  sure  of  not  sink- 
ing, we  must  never  cease  from  the  effort  to  rise.  To 
win  the  crown  of  life,  we  have  only  to  forget  the  things 
that  are  behind  and  press  forward  to  those  that  are 
before. 


of 


He  bringeth  the  wind  out  of  his  treasuries. — Ps.  cxxxv.  7. 


XII. 

GOD'S  TREASURIES   OF  THE  WIND. 

HE  palace  of  the  Vatican  at  Rome  is  said  to  con- 
tain more  than  four  thousand  apartments.  Some 
of  them  are  of  such  great  length  that  they  might 
be  partitioned  into  ten  divisions,  and  each  di- 
vision would  be  long  enough  for  the  largest  assembly 
that  can  be  audibly  addressed  by  the  human  voice. 
The  countless  halls,  chambers,  cabinets,  chapels,  corri- 
dors are  stored  with  the  most  rare  and  costly  collections 
in  science,  art  and  literature,  gathered  from  every  age 
and  every  land.  The  traveler  who  can  stay  but  a  little 
while  in  the  Eternal  City  hurries  across  the  Tiber 
while  the  clanging  bells  of  Saint  Peter's  are  calling  the 
faithful  subjects  of  the  Holy  See  to  morning  prayer. 
He  takes  his  stand  at  the  foot  of  the  royal  staircase, 
ready  to  press  in  the  moment  permission  shall  be  given. 
He  enters,  thinking  to  finish  the  task  of  exploration  in 
a  few  hours,  and  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  day  in 
some  other  quarter  of  the  storied  city. 

But  he  finds  that  the  first  apartment  he  enters  is  so 
vast  and  rich  in  stores  of  art  and  antiquity  that  the 
whole  day  is  not  sufficient  to  examine  that  alone 

259 


260  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  W13D. 

When  the  hour  for  closing  the  gates  comes,  he  goes 
back  to  his  lodgings,  weary  and  wondering  how  he 
shall  ever  find  time  to  explore  the  labyrinthine  mazes 
of  the  mighty  palace  in  all  its  thousand-fold  apart- 
ments, when  a  whole  day  is  not  enough  for  one.  He 
derives  his  deepest  impression  of  the  riches  and  power 
of  the  Papacy  from  the  vast  storehouse  in  which  it  has 
treasured  up  the  gifts  of  faith  and  affection,  received  in 
many  centuries  from  all  kings  and  people  of  the  earth. 
He  wonders  what  can  be  the  mysterious  and  mighty 
spell  which  has  drawn  the  most  beautiful  and  costly 
works  of  art  from  all  quarters  of  the  world  to  that  one 
vast  repository.  He  stands  amazed  in  contemplation 
of  that  awful  spiritual  sovereignty  which  once  waved 
the  sceptre  of  its  power  over  subject  millions  in  all 
lands,  and  tossed  the  crowns  and  sceptres  of  the  earth 
from  hand  to  hand  in  wild  sport,  as  if  they  were  the 
playthings  of  childhood.  He  returns  to  his  home 
with  the  feeling  that  to  know  what  the  Papacy  was 
in  its  pride  and  glory  one  must  see  it  enthroned  in 
the  Cathedral  of  St.  Peter  and  in  the  palace  of  the 
Vatican. 

The  universe  is  the  palace  in  which  the  infinite  God 
has  stored  up  the  works  of  his  hands  and  the  resources 
of  his  power.  This  mighty  treasure-house  of  the 
Divine  Architect  has  uncounted  millions  of  apart- 
ments, extending  as  wide  as  the  orbs  of  heaven  roll, 
and  as  far  as  the  beams  of  the  morning  fly.  They  are 
filled  with  infinite  treasures  of  riches  and  beauty.  Our 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND.  261 

earth,  which  seems  so  vast  in  the  eyes  of  the  inhabit- 
ants, is  one  small  room  in  the  palace  of  the  great 
King.  Our  present  life  is  the  first  day  given  us  to 
begin  the  study  of  God's  wonders  here.  We  have  only 
just  entered  the  vestibule  of  the  mighty  temple  which 
the  Almighty  Builder  has  reared  for  his  own  glory. 
Through  this  great  house  of  his  kingdom  his  immortal 
children  are  free  to  range  in  wonder  and  in  worship. 
It  will  take  the  whole  of  our  earthly  day  only  to  glance 
at  the  riches  and  glories  with  which  we  are  now  sur- 
rounded. And  we  have  only  to  use  the  present  oppor- 
tunity well  to  have  our  minds  informed  and  delighted 
every  hour.  Then,  when  the  evening  comes  and  we 
are  weary  with  our  work,  we  shall  be  permitted  to  pass 
on  through  the  gateway  of  death,  and  spend  the  end- 
less years  of  eternity  in  ranging  at  leisure  through  the 
everlasting  halls  of  our  Father's  many- mansioned 
house. 

In  this  world  God  brings  forth  from  his  infinite 
treasury  such  wonders  of  his  power  as  we  can  best 
understand.  He  sets  them  in  order  for  us  to  study, 
that  we  may  see  his  greatness  and  exalt  his  name. 
And  when  we  have  learned  this  the  first  lesson  well, 
he  will  throw  open  other  apartments  of  his  mighty 
palace,  and  bid  us  pass  on  from  world  to  world,  and 
from  age  to  age,  in  wonder  and  in  joy. 

For  the  present  hour  let  us  make  a  reverent  and 
sacred  study  of  God's  treasuries  of  the  wind.  Let  us 
see,  as  far  as  we  can,  what  secrets  of  life  and  what  sub- 


262  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

tleties  of  power  the  Infinite  Creator  has  stored  up  in 
this  invisible  deep,  whose  waves  roll  over  us  in  the  rush 
of  the  tempest,  and  whose  murmurs  lull  us  to  sleep  in 
the  calm.  And  let  us  make  this  study  with  thought- 
fulness  and  discrimination,  that  we  may  the  more 
devoutly  worship  Him  whose  way  is  in  the  whirlwind 
and  the  storm,  and  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the 
wind.  Let  us  listen  reverently  to  Him  whose  Spirit 
moves  upon  the  pathless  deep  and  whose  voice  is  heard 
in  the  viewless  air.  Let  us  stand  as  Elijah  stood  on 
the  rock  of  Horeb,  and  see  the  goings  forth  of  the 
divine  power  in  the  gentle  breeze  that  waves  the  bend- 
ing field  of  grain,  and  in  the  wild  tempest  which  tears 
the  mountain  in  its  fury  and  uproots  the  forest  in  its 
path. 

We  shall  do  well  to  begin  this  sacred  study  with 
such  examples  as  may  be  found  in  the  word  of  Divine 
Inspiration.  The  Bible  associates  the  wind  with  the 
most  impressive  and  awful  manifestations  of  the  pres- 
ence and  power  of  the  Almighty.  When  the  first  pair 
had  sinned  in  Paradise  and  they  hid  themselves  for 
shame  among  the  trees  of  the  garden,  they  heard  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  God  borne  upon  the  evening  wind, 
saying,  "  Where  art  thou  ?  What  hast  thou  done  ?" 
And  ever  since  that  hour  the  whisper  of  the  wind  in 
the  quiet  of  the  evening  and  the  stillness  of  night  has 
been  a  solemn  monition  of  the  presence  of  God  to  the 
souls  of  men.  In  the  silent  hours  of  deep  thought  and 
in  the  lonely  places  of  solitude,  the  mournful  sighing 


QOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND.  263 

of  the  wind  still  sounds  like  a  voice  from  the  unseen 
world. 

If  you  were  cast  ashore  upon  the  loneliest  island  in 
the  ocean,  and  you  should  lie  down  to  sleep  at  night, 
fully  believing  that  you  were  the  only  human  being  in 
that  solitude,  the  whisper  of  the  wind  in  the  waving 
branches  above  you  would  make  you  feel,  as  it  made 
Adam  feel  in  the  forfeited  Paradise,  that  God  is  every- 
where. We  can  no  more  hide  ourselves  from  his  pres- 
ence than  we  can  flee  from  the  all-embracing  air.  In 
the  ancient  languages  the  word  for  spirit  and  air  was 
the  same,  because  to  all  men  the  viewless  air  was  the 
most  impressive  symbol  of  the  unseen  and  spiritual 
world.  The  slightest  breath  or  whisper  of  the  pass- 
ing wind  in  lonely  and  thoughtful  hours  made  them 
feel  the  presence  of  One  whose  form  no  eye  had  seen, 
whose  voice  no  ear  had  heard,  save  as  the  savage 
and  the  sage  see  him  in  clouds  and  hear  him  in  the 
wind. 

This  impression  of  "  untutored  minds"  is  confirmed 
and  deepened  by  the  sacred  imagery  of  divine  revela- 
tion. The  Bible  represents  the  wind  as  the  vehicle  of 
divine  power  in  judgment  and  in  blessing.  When  the 
waters  of  the  Deluge  had  reached  their  full  height, 
and  the  vials  of  wrath  had  been  all  poured  out  upon  a 
guilty  world,  God  blew  upon  the  face  of  the  flood  with 
a  mighty  wind,  and  the  waves  went  back  into  the  bed 
of  the  sea,  and  the  ancient  bounds  of  the  deep  were 
set  with  bars  and  doors  that  it  should  not  pass  its 


264  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

decreed  place  any  more.  The  wind  tore  the  misty  veil 
from  the  mountains  and  dried  up  the  earth,  and  a  new 
generation  found  a  heritage  and  a  home  where  the 
giant  sons  of  an  impious  race  had  found  a  grave. 

And  so  now,  when  the  snows  of  winter  are  melted, 
and  the  rains  of  spring  have  fallen,  God  brings  the 
thirsty  wind  out  of  his  treasuries  to  dry  up  the  ground 
and  prepare  the  soil  for  the  plough  and  the  seed  for 
the  harvest.  And  the  human  race  would  die,  and  all 
air-breathing  creatures  would  be  swept  from  the  earth, 
if  God  did  not  breathe  upon  the  flooded  ground  and 
carry  off  the  superabundant  rain  upon  the  mighty 
wings  of  the  wind.  It  would  take  the  working  force 
of  eight  hundred  millions  of  horses,  toiling  night  and 
day,  to  transport  the  water  which  the  wind  brings  from 
the  sea  and  pours  upon  the  lands  of  this  single  State 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  gathers  up  and  carries  away  again 
every  year.  And  the  wind  does  this  mighty  work  of 
transportation  without  any  sound  of  groaning  wheels, 
without  any  wear  or  breakage  of  costly  machinery, 
without  any  exhaustion  of  power.  The  swift  and  elas- 
tic carrier  is  as  fresh  for  new  work  when  it  comes  up 
to  the  mountains  with  its  immense  burden  from  the  sea 
as  when  starting  at  the  stroke  of  the  sunbeams  upon 
its  long  and  steep  journey.  This  mighty  burden-bearer 
moves,  with  the  floods  of  the  deep  upon  its  wings,  as 
silently  as  the  spirits  of  heaven  go  upon  their  messages 
from  the  throne  of  the  Most  High.  And  it  is  the 
coming  and  going  of  the  wind  from  the  sea  to  the 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND.  265 

mountains,  and  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea,  that  saves 
the  earth  from  becoming  a  desert. 

When  Moses  led  the  great  emigration  of  the  ran- 
somed tribes  out  of  Egypt,  and  the  deep  lay  in  their 
path  to  the  promised  land,  God  blew  with  his  mighty 
wind  upon  the  sea,  and  ploughed  a  channel  for  his 
people  through  the  waves  with  the  cutting  blast.  He 
made  the  subtle  and  viewless  air  the  vehicle  of  his 
power  in  dividing  the  waters,  that  men  might  learn  to 
believe  in  the  presence  of  Him  whose  face  they  cannot 
see,  and  follow  the  guidance  of  Him  whose  hand  they 
cannot  touch.  Jehovah  might  have  appeared  in  the 
form  of  a  mighty  conqueror,  riding  upon  horses  and 
chariots  of  salvation,  shaking  the  earth  with  the  thun- 
der of  his  voice,  and  cleaving  a  path  for  his  people 
through  the  deep  with  the  stroke  of  his  glittering 
sword.  But  he  chose  rather  to  make  the  viewless  wind 
the  hiding  of  his  power,  that  he  might  help  the  gross 
and  sensual  minds  of  his  people  to  believe  in  the  awful 
and  supreme  reality  of  things  unseen. 

This  is  evermore  the  great  lesson  for  man  to  learn. 
All  material  things  which  dazzle  the  eyes  and  appeal 
to  the  senses  are  merely  passive,  and  have  no  essential 
life.  The  spirit  alone  is  the  source  of  power.  The 
spirit  can  never  die.  The  truths  which  do  most  to  lift 
men  up  from  their  degradation,  and  make  them  par- 
takers of  the  divine  nature,  are  not  truths  which  con- 
cern things  seen  and  handled,  bought  and  sold,  weighed 
and  measured.  They  are  truths  which  concern  our 


266  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE    WIND. 

spiritual  and  immortal  being,  and  which  would  still  be 
infinitely  important  to  us,  though  the  earth  and  every- 
thing in  it  were  burned  up  and  the  material  heavens 
had  all  passed  away. 

God  comes  to  us,  like  the  viewless  wind,  to  revive 
our  hearts  and  work  within  us  a  new  and  divine  crea- 
tion. And  if  we  do  not  welcome  the  unseen  visitant, 
and  receive  new  life  from  the  quickening  Spirit,  we 
shall  remain  in  bondage  to  corruption  and  we  shall 
surely  die.  When  the  altar  of  the  heart  is  lighted  by 
fire  from  heaven,  when  the  inner  sanctuary  of  the  soul 
is  possessed  and  consecrated  by  an  unseen  power,  then 
the  whole  man  is  moved,  as  the  forest  is  moved  by  the 
rushing  wind ;  then  every  faculty  is  swayed  by  an  in- 
visible force,  which  triumphs  over  all  external  con- 
ditions, and  makes  all  possession  and  resources  its  own. 

I  have  walked  alone  in  the  wild  forest  and  heard 
the  sound  of  a  going  among  the  tree-tops,  like  the 
marching  of  myriad  hosts,  trampling  the  clouds  and 
sweeping  the  pathless  fields  of  air.  I  have  stood  on 
the  shore  of  the  sea  and  watched  the  long  ridges  of 
rolling  billows,  advancing  under  flying  banners  of 
white  surf,  breaking  in  ceaseless  charge  on  the  ever- 
lasting bulwark  of  the  shore.  On  a  quiet  summer's 
afternoon  I  have  suddenly  heard  a  rumbling  sound 
like  an  earthquake,  and  at  the  same  time  I  have  seen 
the  whole  air  darkened  with  clouds  of  dust  and  the 
flying  branches  of  trees  and  the  fragments  of  over- 
thrown houses.  I  have  seen  a  straight  and  narrow 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND.  267 

path  ploughed  through  the  forest,  with  the  mighty  oak 
and  lofty  pine  twisted  and  torn  from  their  roots  as  the 
ploughman  turns  the  tender  grass  and  treads  upon  it. 

And  in  every  case  the  power  which  produced  such 
mighty  effects  was  hidden  in  the  viewless  air.  It  was 
nothing  but  wind.  And  yet  it  was  high  and  dreadful. 
It  was  crushing  and  strong.  It  was  the  minister  of  the 
Almighty  to  teach  man  how  completely  he  is  sur- 
rounded and  penetrated  in  the  recesses  of  his  being  by 
the  powers  of  the  unseen  world.  A  man  might  as  well 
say  that  the  sea  is  calm  when  the  winds  are  lashing 
it  into  fury,  or  that  the  branches  are  motionless  when 
the  tempest  is  roaring  through  the  forest,  as  to  say  that 
the  spirit  is  not  mightier  than  the  flesh,  or  that  the 
soul  is  not  of  more  worth  than  the  universe  of  things 
seen  and  perishable.  The  man  who  should  determine 
to  walk  only  by  sight,  and  believe  only  in  the  evidence 
of  the  senses,  could  not  live  a  day  in  a  world  where  the 
power  that  rules  everything  is  unseen,  and  life  itself  is 
a  mystery  past  finding  out.  Surrounded  and  controlled 
as  we  are  every  moment  by  the  powers  of  the  spiritual 
world,  faith  is  the  highest  reason  and  skepticism  is  in- 
finite folly. 

Passionately  as  the  skeptic  may  deny  the  reality  of 
the  unseen  world,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  resist  its 
power.  He  himself  lives  in  the  memories  of  the  past 
and  the  ideal  anticipations  of  the  future  quite  as  much 
as  in  the  visible,  matter-of-fact  world  of  to-day.  The 
path  which  he  treads  is  dark  or  bright,  according  to 


268  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND 

the  hues  cast  upon  it  by  his  own  mind.  And  so  it  is 
with  us  all.  We  are  constantly  conversing  with  things 
unseen ;  we  are  yielding  to  the  power  of  influences  and 
impressions  which  are  more  subtle  than  the  viewless  air. 
The  bereaved  mourner  sees  a  face  that  others  cannoi 
see.  The  loving  heart  discovers  in  the  object  of  its 
affections,  excellences  that  others  cannot  discern.  The 
tone  of  the  voice,  the  strain  of  a  tune  or  song,  the  ut- 
terance of  a  common  thought,  will  have  a  world  of 
meaning  to  one  and  no  meaning  at  all  to  another.  The 
wanderer,  returning  again  to  the  home  of  his  child- 
hood and  visiting  the  graves  of  those  who  invoked 
blessings  upon  him  in  his  departure,  lives  again  in  a 
world  that  has  passed  away ;  he  hears  the  voices  that 
.were  hushed  in  death  years  before ;  he  walks  in  com- 
panionship with  beloved  ones  whose  footsteps  are  no 
longer  heard  upon  the  paths  of  life.  It  is  the  peculiar 
faculty  of  the  poet  and  the  artist  to  give  form  and 
expression  to  thoughts  and  images  which  the  great 
heart  of  our  common  humanity  will  recognize  at  once 
as  its  own.  And  he  who  has  the  power  to  express  or 
to  represent  what  millions  have  felt  but  never  seen, 
never  heard,  will  find  a  friend  and  admirer  in  every 
heart  whose  experience  he  has  had  the  skill  to  in- 
terpret. 

So  does  the  very  constitution  of  our  nature  yearn  for 
the  unseen,  and  stretch  forth  to  hold  converse  with  the 
distant,  the  departed,  the  ideal  world  of  our  own  crea- 
tion, the  vast  and  mighty  realm  in  whic*h  the  mind 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE    WIND.  269 

reigns  alone  and  which  the  heart  peoples  with  its  own 
affections.  We  are  not  moved  by  the  severe  and  bald 
aspect  of  undeniable  and  everyday  reality  as  deeply  as 
we  are  by  representations  which  carry  us  beyond  the 
bounds  of  the  narrow,  visible,  matter-of-fact  world  in 
which  we  live.  The  power  of  eloquence,  of  poetry,  of 
music  and  of  painting  displays  itself  solely  by  lifting 
us  up  to  a  loftier  range  of  feeling  and  of  thought,  kin- 
dling within  us  greater  hopes,  purposes  and  aspirations, 
and  thus  showing  us  that  the  beauty  and  the  joy  of  our 
life  must  come  from  things  unseen. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  dark,  rainy,  smoky  day,  in 
the  midst  of  the  vast  world  of  London,  I  passed  along 
the  street  called  the  City  Road  in  search  of  the  Bun- 
hill  Fields  burying-ground.  When  I  came  to  the 
place,  I  found  the  high,  strong  iron  gate  which  guarded 
the  entrance  locked,  and  a  notice  said  it  would  not  be 
opened  for  two  hours.  There  was  no  convenient  shel- 
ter, no  suitable  place  at  hand  to  rest,  and  it  was  too  far 
to  go  to  my  lodgings  and  return.  I  was  too  intent 
upon  entering  the  consecrated  ground  to  give  it  up. 
And  so  through  two  long,  weary  hours  I  paced  the 
wet  street,  waiting  for  admission.  I  made  excursions  in 
every  direction  in  the  vain  search  for  objects  of  interest 
to  exhaust  the  time.  But  I  remember  nothing  that  I 
saw  save  the  low-hanging  clouds,  the  mingled  mist  and 
smoke,  the  dropping  rain  and  the  wet  and  weary  street. 
When  at  last  the  gate  was  thrown  open,  I  hurried  in, 
and  passed  up  and  down  the  long  central  walk  and 


270  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

through  the  narrow  side-paths,  beneath  the  dripping 
boughs  of  trees  and  over  the  wet  grass  in  search  of  one 
humble  grave.  At  last  I  found  what  I  was  seeking  for, 
as  my  eye  caught  this  inscription  upon  a  plain  block  of 
marble :  "  Mr.  John  Bunyan,  Author  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress." 

And  do  you  say  that  it  was  a  needless  exposure  and 
a  vain  expenditure  of  time  for  me  to  take  so  much 
pains  to  see  that  one  humble  grave  ?  It  would  have 
been  had  I  seen  nothing  but  the  block  of  stone  and  the 
familiar  name  before  me.  But  it  would  require  a 
swifter  brush  than  artist  ever  held  to  paint  the  scenes 
as  they  passed  before  my  mental  vision  in  the  moments 
that  I  stood  beside  Bunyan's  grave.  I  saw  an  alarmed 
and  excited  man  in  the  City  of  Destruction,  stopping 
his  ears  to  shut  out  the  tempting  voices  of  those  who 
would  dissuade  him  from  the  attempt  to  run  for  his 
life.  I  saw  him  plunging  into  the  Slough  of  Despond, 
and  escaping,  weary  and  woestricken,  on  the  other 
side.  I  saw  him  passing  beneath  the  brow  of  a  hill 
that  shone  with  lightning  and  shook  with  thunder, 
and  he  trembled  exceedingly  lest  he  should  be  smitten 
and  destroyed.  I  saw  him  pass  in  at  the  wicket  gate, 
barely  escaping  the  arrows  which  the  archers  of  Satan 
shot  at  him  from  the  loopholes  in  the  neighboring 
tower.  I  saw  him  climbing  the  Hill  Difficulty  with 
weeping  eyes  and  wounded  heart,  and  yet  losing  his 
heavy  burden  at  the  foot  of  the  cross ;  and  then,  after  a 
gladsome  day's  journey,  reposing  in  the  'Chamber  of 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND.  271 

Peace.  Then  again  I  saw  him  wrestling  with  Apol- 
lyon  in  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  climbing  the  De- 
lectable Mountains,  catching  a  vision  of  the  golden 
domes  and  sapphire  walls  of  the  City  toward  which  he 
was  journeying,  enjoying  the  calm  delights  of  the  Land 
of  Beulah,  and  at  last  passing  over  the  cold  river  of 
death,  and  lost  to  view  amid  the  dazzling  splendors  of 
the  angel  escort  that  stood  waiting  for  him  on  the  other 
side. 

I  did  not  need  to  be  a  very  imaginative  man  to  have 
all  that  vision  of  sorrow  and  of  glory,  of  conflict  and 
of  final  rest,  pass  before  my  mind's  eye  as  I  stood  in 
Bunhill  Fields,  amid  the  cold  rain  and  the  murky  air, 
reading  the  simple  words,  "  Mr.  John  Bunyan,  Author 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress."  Since  that  day  a  prouder 
monument  has  been  reared  on  that  consecrated  spot. 
But  still  in  all  time  the  thoughtful  traveler  who  stands 
in  Bunhill  Fields,  where  the  dust  of  the  Bedford 
dreamer  rests,  waiting  the  resurrection,  will  see,  not  the 
towering  marble  nor  the  titled  names  of  those  who 
placed  it  there,  but  the  Progress  of  the  Christian  Pil- 
grim from  the  City  of  Destruction  to  the  City  that  hath 
everlasting  foundations,  whose  Builder  and  Maker  is 
God.  Thus  are  we  all  indebted  to  the  unseen  and 
spiritual  world  for  our  strongest  and  deepest  emotions. 
We  do  not  need  to  become  enthusiasts,  -we  do  not  need 
to  adopt  anything  like  visionary  or  impracticable  views 
of  life,  to  live  at  all  times  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisi- 
ble to  the  eye,  yet  ever  present  to  the  soul. 


272  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

The  Bible  makes  the  winds  God's  messengers  to  pro- 
claim his  word  and  to  carry  his  blessings  around  the 
world.  When  the  land  of  Israel  was  parched  with 
drought,  and  Elijah  went  up  to  the  top  of  Carmel  and 
prayed  for  rain,  the  answer  to  his  prayer  came  in  the 
rushing  sound  of  mighty  winds.  The  winged  messen- 
gers of  the  air  were  commanded  to  bring  abundance 
of  waters  from  the  great  sea  and  pour  upon  the  thirsty 
ground,  that  all  Israel  might  know  who  it  is  that  shut- 
teth  up  the  heavens  in  judgment  and  giveth  showers 
of  rain  in  mercy. 

In  Oriental  life  it  is  still  common  with  people  who 
have  never  read  a  page  of  the  Inspired  Word  to  speak 
of  the  winds  as  God's  messengers.  A  friend,  who  has 
been  through  all  the  Bible  lands,  tells  me  that  once, 
when  himself  traveling  iri*  the  desert,  he  suddenly 
heard  the  cry  of  the  Arabs,  "  Dismount  and  prepare 
to  meet  the  messengers  of  God."  And  when  he  turned 
to  see  what  the  cry  meant,  he  saw  the  suffocating  cloud 
of  dust  raised  by  the  hot  wind  stretching  along  the 
horizon  and  sweeping  down  upon  him  with  the  speed  of 
the  hurricane.  He  had  barely  time  to  dismount,  pros- 
trate himself  upon  the  earth  and  cover  his  head,  before 
the  fiery  cloud  was  upon  him,  sifting  its  burning  dust 
through  every  part  of  his  clothing,  and  making  the 
camels  moan  with  the  intolerable  miseries  of  suffoca- 
tion. It  lasted  but  a  few  moments,  or  every  man  and 
beast  would  have  perished.  And  when  it  was  passed, 
the  Arabs  said  they  had  been  overtaken  by  the  ines 

V 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND.  273 

sengers  of  God.  They  thus  spoke  of  the  winds  with  as 
much  assurance  of  their  personality  and  divine  com- 
mission as  Jacob  spoke  of  the  angels  when  God's  host 
met  him  at  Mahanaim. 

When  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  upon  the  prophet 
Ezekiel  in  the  vision  of  the  valley  of  death,  he  was 
commanded  to  prophesy  unto  the  wind,  and  in  answer 
to  his  word  breath  came  from  the  four  winds  upon  the 
slain,  and  they  lived  again  and  stood  up  before  him, 
an  exceeding  great  army.  Thus  was  it  shown  unto  the 
prophet  that  no  work  of  restoration  can  be  too  hard 
for  the  Lord,  and  none  who  trust  in  him  need  ever  say, 
as  Israel  said,  "  Our  hope  is  lost."  He  cari  breathe 
new  life  into  souls  that  are  dead  in  sin,  and  they  shall 
live  unto  him.  He  can  touch  the  lips  of  the  dumb 
with  a  live  coal  from  the  heavenly  altar,  and  they  shall 
become  eloquent  with  his  praise. 

So  it  came  to  pass  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  when  the 
disciples  in  the  upper  chamber  at  Jerusalem  heard  a 
sound  from  heaven  like  a  rushing,  mighty  wind,  and 
they  were  all  endued  with  eloquence  and  power  to 
speak  forth  the  wonderful  works  of  God.  They  were 
ignorant  and  poor,  inexperienced  and  distrustful.  But 
the  descent  of  power,  which  came  like  the  rush  of 
winds  from  on  high,  made  them  strong,  courageous 
and  successful  in  fulfilling  the  greatest  commission  ever 
given  to  man. 

God  makes  the  wind  his  minister,  because  it  is  subtle 
and  unseen,  it  is  mysterious  and  mighty.  We  cannot 
R 


274  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

foresee  its  coming,  nor  can  we  tell  from  what  quarter  it 
will  blow.  It  drives  the  clouds  in  the  heavens  and  the 
waves  on  the  sea.  It  rocks  the  little  bird  in  its  swing- 
ing nest,  and  it  tramples  down  the  forest  beneath  the 
rushing  wheels  of  the  whirlwind.  It  fans  the  fevered 
brow  and  cools  the  heated  pulse  of  the  feeble  invalid  as 
he  ventures  tremblingly  forth  from  his  close  chamber 
to  breathe  the  fresh  air.  It  lashes  so  terribly  with  its 
cutting  breath  that  the  strong  man  cries  out  in  agony, 
and  the  fur-clad  denizens  of  the  North  die  in  their  icy 
homes.  It  sweeps  the  desert  with  the  burning  blast  of 
the  furnace,  and  it  overwhelms  the  wandering  pilgrim 
with  suffocating  clouds  and  columns  of  fire.  It  distills 
the  dew  with  such  gentleness  that  the  most  delicate 
flower  is  bathed  with  moisture,  but  not  broken,  and  it 
carries  the  waters  of  the  great  deep  above  the  highest 
mountains,  and  fills  all  the  rivers  of  the  earth.  It 
thunders  in  the  clouds,  it  crashes  in  the  earthquake,  it 
moans  in  the  seas,  it  sings  in  the  utterance  of  joy,  it 
shrieks  in  the  sharp  cry  of  pain,  and  it  whispers  the 
farewell  from  the  lips  of  the  dying. 

And  so  it  is  with  the  coming  and  the  going,  the  work 
and  the  power,  of  that  divine  spiritual  influence  which 
Christ  himself  compares  to  the  wind.  With  the  mes- 
sage of  these  words  to  the  hearts  of  all  that  receive 
them  there  goes  an  influence  more  gentle  than  the 
whispering  breeze,  more  mighty  than  the  rushing 
storm.  It  is  the  Spirit  of  the  Holy  One,  poured  forth 
in  mercy  to  kindle  the  incense  of  gratitude  and  praise 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND.  275 

upon  the  altar  of  the  heart,  as  the  wind  blowing  over 
beds  of  flowers  bears  the  incense  of  perfume  to  Him 
who  clothes  them  with  beauty,  and  accepts,  well-pleased, 
the-  offering  which  they  bring.  As  the  wind  came  at 
the  prophet's  word  in  the  valley  of  the  vision  of  death, 
and  the  dead  stood  up  an  exceeding  great  army,  so 
comes  the  Spirit  of  the  Blessed  to  breathe  immortal  life 
and  perfect  peace  into  man's  burdened  and  longing 
soul.  And  this  is  ever  a  fitting  prayer  for  the  troubled, 
the  needy  and  the  dying  to  offer :  "  Come,  O  breath  of 
the  Divine  Life  and  Love,  and  breathe  upon  this 
desert  heart  of  mine,  that  I  may  live  and  rejoice  in 
God,  my  Saviour." 

Man  never  attains  the  full  height  of  his  power  in 
action ;  he  never  feels  the  thrill  of  the  most  fervid  and 
impassioned  joy  until  he  knows  what  it  is  to  be  in- 
spired ;  until  every  faculty  of  his  being  is  pervaded 
and  uplifted  by  an  indwelling  spirit.  The  grosser  ele- 
ments of  his  nature  must  be  seized  upon  by  a  power 
from  above  and  borne  onward  as  the  wind  bears  the 
cloud.  The  whole  man  must  become  an  embodied 
thought,  a  living  purpose,  a  burning  emotion,  and  then 
he  will  show  what  mighty  powers  lay  slumbering  within 
him  ;  then  his  whole  being  will  thrill  with  a  strange 
and  unutterable  joy.  The  poet  feels  the  inspiration  of 
song,  and  he  pours  his  fervid  soul  into  lines  that  will 
live  as  long  as  human  hearts  can  be  kindled  with  the 
fire  of  feeling  or  swayed  by  the  subtle  power  of  love. 
The  orator  receives  the  inspiration  of  eloquence,  and 


276  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE   WIND. 

great  assemblies  are  moved  by  his  words  as  the  wind 
moves  the  waves.  The  soldier  is  inspired  with  patriot- 
ism, and  he  endures  the  fatigues  of  the  long  campaign 
and  the  terrors  of  the  day  of  battle  as  if  to  him  it  were 
the  ecstasy  of  joy  to  suffer  and  die  for  country.  In  all 
such  cases  it  is  the  spirit  that  takes  possession  of  the 
man  and  lifts  him  above  himself,  and  makes  him  seem 
something  more  than  human.  And  this  appearance 
becomes  reality  when  man  receives  the  highest  form 
of  inspiration,  even  that  which  is  given  from  above  to 
make  him  a  child  of  God.  That  new-creating  breath 
from  the  Almighty  imparts  a  new  life  to  every  faculty 
of  his  being  and  makes  him  a  partaker  of  the  Divine 
nature. 

That  blessed  influence  from  above  is  as  ready  to  be 
poured  upon  the  thirsty  soul  as  the  rain  is  to  fall  when 
the  wind  brings  the  clouds ;  it  is  as  essential  to  the  life 
of  the  soul  as  the  air  we  breathe  is  to  the  life  of  the 
body.  We  have  only  to  open  our  hearts  and  the  living 
breath  from  God  will  come  in,  just  as  we  have  only  to 
expand  the  chest  and  the  air  will  rush  in  with  the 
secret  balm  of  life.  Men  sometimes  stifle  themselves 
in  close  apartments  and  complain  bitterly  of  their  suf- 
ferings, when  they  have  only  to  throw  open  the  win- 
dows or  walk  forth  into  the  free  air,  and  they  will  feel 
new  life  leaping  and  kindling  in  every  fibre  of  their 
frames.  So  the  souls  of  men  are  often  shut  up  in  the 
heated  and  artificial  atmosphere  of  society,  leading  a 
starveling  and  stifled  existence,  feeble  in  faith,  blunted 


GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND.  277 

in  feeling,  unhappy  in  heart.  They  have  only  to  open 
the  windows  of  their  souls  and  let  the  living  breath 
from  God's  Spirit  come  in,  and  they  will  become  new 
creatures — they  will  feel  a  new  life  quickening  and 
penetrating  every  faculty  of  their  being. 

And  this  blessed  influence  from  above  is  not  of  such 
rare  occurrence  as  some  suppose.  It  is  everywhere.  It 
falls  upon  every  soul.  We  can  no  more  flee  from  it 
than  we  can  flee  from  the  all-embracing  air.  Travel 
as  far  as  we  may,  hide  ourselves  in  whatever  dark 
place  of  the  earth,  we  cannot  go  from  the  Spirit  of  the 
Almighty.  And  who  should  wish  to  go,  who  shall  try 
to  shut  out  the  quickening,  life-giving  breath  of  the 
Divine  Comforter  from  the  soul?  It  will  soothe  in 
sorrow,  it  will  strengthen  in  weakness,  it  will  guide  in 
perplexity.  It  will  make  the  mind  clear  and  the  heart 
pure  and  the  path  of  life  plain.  Amid  all  the  troubles 
and  disappointments  of  the  world  it  will  give  a  peace 
that  passeth  all  understanding.  Under  the  deepest 
cloud  of  sorrow  it  will  enable  the  heart  to  rejoice  with 
joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

O  my  doubting,  troubled  brother,  do  me  the  justice 
to  believe  that  I  know  what  I  am  writing  about  when 
I  say  all  this.  Open  your  heart  and  let  the  restoring, 
new-creating  breath  of  the  Blessed  Comforter  come  in. 
It  is  the  breath  of  your  life — your  soul's  life.  It  will 
do  more  for  you  than  the  south  wind  for  the  waiting 
earth  when  it  brings  the  rain;  more  than  the  rising 
breeze  for  the  sailor  becalmed  in  mid-ocean ;  more  than 


278  GOD'S  TREASURIES  OF  THE  WIND. 

the  fresh  air  for  the  captive  pining  in  his  dungeon ; 
more  than  the  gentle  breath  of  summer  for  the  feeble 
invalid  shivering  in  the  wintry  blast.  O  my  poor, 
comfortless  brother,  wandering  up  and  down  the  world 
in  search  of  peace  and  finding  it  not,  open  your  heart 
to  the  breath  of  heaven  and  peace  will  come  in,  as  the 
light  of  the  morning  comes  in  at  the  open  window. 
Bring  your  Father  the  offering  of  a  humble  and  trust- 
ing heart,  and  the  fire  of  the  divine  love  shall  descend 
and  kindle  the  sacrifice,  and  a  voice  from  the  excellent 
glory  shall  say,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son." 


Jain  on  %  Utofon  §rass. 


He  shall  come  down  like  rain  upon  the  mown  grass— as  shoivers  that 
water  the  earth. — Ps.  Ixxii.  6. 


XIII. 

RAIN   ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

HE  oldest  book  in  the  world  is  ever  most  in  ad- 
vance of  the  age.  The  words  which  were  written 
three  thousand  years  ago  are  still  the  best  de- 
scription of  all  that  has  yet  been  attained  in 
human  progress  and  of  all  that  is  possible  in  the  future. 
The  unity  of  nations,  the  instruction  of  the  ignorant, 
the  deliverance  of  the  oppressed,  the  prevalence  of 
righteousness,  the  enjoyment  of  peace  and  plenty,  the 
increased  productiveness  of  the  earth,  which  shall  be 
attained  in  the  age  of  the  highest  improvement,  are  all 
shadowed  forth  with  exceeding  beauty  in  those  words 
of  inspiration  which  were  written  when  the  light  of 
revealed  truth  shone  only  upon  one  small  land,  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  was  veiled  in  heathen  darkness. 
The  horrors  and  the  injustice  of  war,  the  beauty  and 
blessing  of  peace,  are  most  fittingly  described  in  those 
inspired  compositions  which  were  put  upon  record  when 
the  earth  was  full  of  violence,  and  the  supreme  law  for 
the  government  of  the  nations  was  the  law  of  the  sword. 
And  when  now  we  would  give  the  richest  and  loftiest 
expression  to  our  hopes  for  the  future,  we  go  back 

281 


282  EAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

twenty-five  hundred  years  upon  the  track  of  time  and 
ask  the  old  Hebrew  psalmists  and  prophets  to  speak  for 
us.  When  I  would  inspire  men  with  the  loftiest  senti- 
ments of  humanity  and  benevolence,  when  I  would 
awaken  in  their  hearts  the  most  ardent  expectation  of  a 
reign  of  righteousness  in  all  the  earth,  I  quote  a  compo- 
sition which  was  written  before  Rome  was  founded, 
before  the  history  of  Greece  began.  Railroads  and  tele- 
graphs, steamships  and  printing-presses,  constitutions 
and  cotton-gins,  are  all  involved  in  the  beautiful  and 
exhaustless  imagery  of  the  holy  men  of  old. 

There  is  something  peculiarly  quiet  and  gentle  in 
the  descriptions  of  great  changes  of  the  future,  and  the 
mode  in  which  they  shall  come  to  pass.  The  right- 
eousness of  that  day  shall  be  enthroned  in  the  person 
of  a  King,  and  yet  it  shall  cover  all  like  the  clouds, 
and  it  shall  descend  upon  all  like  the  rain.  The  bless- 
ings of  abundance  and  peace  shall  come  down  like  rain 
upon  the  mown  grass  and  like  showers  that  water  the 
earth. 

The  imagery  reminds  us  pleasantly  of  summer 
•showers,  which  we  have  often  seen  with  our  own  eyes 
coming  down  upon  the  thirsty  earth.  At  such  times 
there  have  been  many  days  of  fair  weather,  and  in 
every  direction  the  smoothly-shaven  meadows  show 
that  the  busy  haymakers  have  used  the  season  well  in 
completing  their  task.  The  green  mantle  of  the 
waving  grass  has  been  rolled  up  from  the  fields  and 
carried  away  to  the  sheltering  barns.  The  short  stub- 


RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS.  283 

ble  that  remains  cannot  protect  the  roots  from  the 
burning  sun.  Every  day  dries  up  the  soil  more  and 
more,  and  the  dews  of  the  night  cease  to  fall  upon  the 
parched  ground.  Weeks  pass  on,  and  it  looks  at  last 
as  if  the  green  grass  would  never  grow  again  upon  the 
mown  field. 

At  length  the  sky  begins  to  change.  The  coppery 
haze  melts  from  the  face  of  the  sun.  The  low  murmur 
in  the  distant  woods,  the  gentle  tremor  that  runs  along 
the  tree-tops,  while  as  yet  there  is  no  wind,  the  bees 
coming  home  to  their  hives  and  the  house-doves  flying 
to  their  windows  for  shelter,  all  indicate  that  the  pity- 
ing angel  of  the  sea  has  heard  the  prayer  of  the  parched 
earth  and  is  coming  with  the  blessed  rain  in  his  cloudy 
wings.  At  length  white  fleeces  of  vapor  begin  to  form 
out  of  the  sky  that  a  moment  before  was  clear.  Heavy 
masses  of  darker  shadow  bend  around  the  shoulders  of 
the  hills  and  trail  their  jagged  fringes  through  the 
valleys.  Swift  outriders  of  mist,  with  flying  plumes 
and  torn  banners,  dash  out  from  the  horizon,  while  the 
heavy  battalions  of  rain-cloud  come  on  in  orderly 
march,  with  magazines  of  many  waters  in  their  train. 
The  trumpeting  winds  begin  to  sound,  and  the  waving 
column  of  blue  rain  advances  at  the  call  and  sweeps  by, 
until  the  whole  heavens  become  one  cloud,  and  the 
whole  air  comes  down  in  cooling  drops  upon  the  parched 
earth,  like  the  tears  of  pity  falling  upon  the  brow 
that  is  burning  with  fever  and  bowed  with  grief.  The 
harvest-fields  drink  in  the  blessing  as  wandering  Arabs 


284  RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

drink  when,  they  find  springs  in  the  desert.  The  dry 
stubble  of  the  mown  grass  revives.  The  withered 
roots  shoot  out  new  fibres  into  the  moist  earth.  A 
dozen  green  blades  spring  up  where  one  has  been  cut 
away  by  the  mower's  scythe.  And  so  the  new  growth 
goes  on  while  the  gentle  showers  continue  to  fall,  until 
the  bare  field  becomes  a  floor  of  emerald,  fit  to  be 
trodden  by  feet  that  walk  upon  the  crystalline  sea  of 
heaven. 

So  shall  the  blessed  rain  of  righteousness  and  peace 
come  down  on  the  earth  in  those  promised  days  of  the 
future  when  the  right  arm  of  wrong  shall  be  broken  and 
holy  love  shall  find  a  home  in  all  the  habitations  of  men. 
So  even  now  comes  the  blessed  rain  of  the  quickening 
Spirit  upon  the  parched  and  burning  desert  of  the 
human  heart.  So  comes  the  meek  and  gentle  Christ 
to  set  up  his  throne  where  Satan  long  has  had  his  seat 
and  groaning  millions  have  cried  in  vain  for  release 
from  captivity. 

The  help  which  the  soul  needs  is  such  as  no  science 
or  art  or  invention  of  man  can  bring.  It  must  come 
like  the  rain  from  above.  Great  as  are  the  interests  of 
time,  and  far-reaching  as  are  the  aims  of  human  ambi- 
tion, they  cannot  satisfy  the  necessities  of  the  soul. 
They  cannot  give  us  peace  while  we  live,  nor  hope 
when  we  die.  What  we  all  need  is  to  think  less  of 
earth  and  more  of  heaven — to  abate  our  ardor  in  search 
of  happiness  here,  and  be  content  to  wait  for  a  better 
portion  hereafter.  Christ  comes  from  above  to  tell  us 


RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS.  285 

of  that  other  home  and  to  teach  us  the  way  thither. 
He  makes  the  path  bright  with  his  own  steps,  like  the 
bow  on  the  rain-cloud  when  the  thunder  and  the  dark- 
ness of  the  tempest  are  passing  away.  He  takes  us  by 
the  hand  to  set  our  feet  on  the  heavenly  road,  While 
we  linger  and  hesitate  to  climb,  he  comes  and  goes  in 
full  sight  on  the  shining  steep,  that  we  may  see  the 
course  and  believe  it  safe. 

The  blessing  from  above  comes  like  the  rain  to  the 
needy  and  the  perishing.  The  saddest  sight  in  all  the 
world  of  Nature  is  a  land  smitten  with  drought.  If 
the  rains  continue  to  be  withholden,  famine  succeeds, 
and  all  other  afflictions  follow  in  its  train.  The  green 
grass  is  changed  to  dry  stubble,  the  soil  is  baked  into 
a  hard  crust  of  clay,  or  beaten  into  dust  and  blown 
about  by  the  hot  and  suffocating  wind.  The  whole  air 
seems  as  if  it  had  been  strewn  with  ashes  from  the  fur- 
nace. Fires  break  out  in  the  forests,  the  dry  turf 
burns  to  the  lowest  depths  of  the  soil,  and  the  rising 
smoke  becomes  so  thick  that  the  wind  cannot  blow  it 
away.  The  heavens  mourn  as  if  covered  with  sack- 
cloth, the  light  of  the  stars  cannot  struggle  through 
the  burning  mist,  and  the  moon  is  turned  into  blood. 
The  wells  and  fountains  fail,  the  streams  sink  slowly 
into  their  lowest  bed  and  disappear  in  the  sand.  The 
green  foliage  of  fruit  trees  and  grain-fields  rolls  up  and 
rustles  like  straw  in  the  threshing-floor.  Domestic 
flocks  fall  down  exhausted  in  their  wanderings  for 
water,  and  give  up  their  life  with  a  moan.  Wild 


286  RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GEASS. 

beasts  come  out  of  their  hiding  in  the  forests  and  seek 
their  food  among  the  dwellings  of  men.  The  sounds 
of  labor  cease  to  be  heard  in  the  workshops  and  the 
fields.  Fever  comes  to  the  help  of  famine,  and  sick- 
ness destroys  where  hunger  spared.  Despair  settles 
down  upon  all  minds,  and  the  fountains  of  pity  are 
dried  up  in  all  hearts.  The  dying  cry  in  vain  for 
help.  The  dead  lie  unburied  in  the  houses  and  along 
the  highways. 

All  this  has  been  experienced  many  times  in  lands 
where  the  Bible  was  written.  It  has  been  a  dread 
reality  within  the  memory  of  some  who  are  still  chil- 
dren in  portions  of  the  Eastern  world.  Three  years 
ago  a  million  human  beings  starved  to  death  in  a  single 
province  in  India.  Thirty  millions  of  people  perished 
by  the  same  awful  death  in  one  year,  under  British 
rule,  in  the  valley  of  the  Ganges.  And  all  this  misery- 
came  upon  the  homes  of  men  because  the  showers  of 
heaven  failed  to  water  the  earth.  The  angel  of  the 
waters  would  not  come  up  from  the  sea  to  the  moun- 
tains with  the  treasures  of  the  deep  on  his  wings,  in 
answer  to  the  prayers  of  the  perishing,  and  there  was 
nothing  left  for  millions  to  do  but  to  suffer  and  die. 

And  this  awful  blight,  which  is  caused  by  drought, 
is  a  fit  symbol  of  the  needy  condition  of  the  human 
soul  until  Christ  comes  like  the  rain  upon  the  parched 
ground.  It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  in  describing 
the  spiritual  destitution  of  the  world  without  a  Saviour. 
The  great  and  sore  plague  of  sin  upon  the  heart  is  the 


RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GEASS.  287 

cause  of  ail  other  plagues  which  have  spread  through  all 
lands  and  brought  pain  and  sorrow  upon  every  human 
soul.  And  Christ  comes  to  take  away  sin  and  heal  all  the 
sorrows  that  sin  hath  caused.  Christ  finds  us  clinging 
to  the  earth  and  writing  our  names  in  the  dust,  and  he 
kindles  in  our  hearts  desires  and  aspirations  which  tak 
hold  on  God  and  make  us  heirs  of  heaven  and  eternity. 
He  finds  us  abusing  or  neglecting  the  most  awful  and 
immeasurable  capacities  for  good,  and  he  shows  us  that 
we  can  become  the  equals  of  archangels,  and  begin  a 
blessed  life  which  shall  be  measured  only  by  the  ever- 
lasting years  of  God.  He  finds  us  setting  at  naught 
the  most  costly  lessons  of  experience,  violating  the 
solemn  admonitions  of  conscience,  and  planting  our 
most  cherished  hopes  in  the  barren  sand.  He  restores 
reason  to  its  rightful  throne,  brings  us  into  harmony 
with  ourselves,  and  scatters  the  dark  shadow  from  our 
path  with  one  glance  of  his  eye.  He  finds  our  souls  a 
barren  waste,  and  he  makes  them  bloom  with  the  flow- 
ers of  Paradise  and  bring  forth  fruit  unto  eternal  life. 
In  some  Eastern  lands,  where  the  sky  is  without  a 
cloud  for  half  the  year,  the  return  of  the  rain  changes 
the  whole  face  of  nature  as  if  it  were  a  new  creation. 
The  wild  tract  of  country  in  South  Africa,  called  the 
Kan  30,  seems  a  perfect  waste  at  the  close  of  the  dry 
season.  For  miles  and  miles  not  a  green  leaf  nor  a 
living  blade  of  grass  can  be  seen.  The  hard,  white 
clay,  mixed  with  sand  and  pebbles,  reflects  the  rays  of 
the  sun  with  such  intolerable  fervor  that  the  traveler 


288  RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

seems  to  be  walking  over  the  burning  lava  of  a  vol- 
cano. Wild  birds  will  not  fly  across  the  hot  and  stifling 
waste,  and  even  serpents  and  beasts  of  prey  shun  it  as 
they  shun  the  fire.  And  yet,  when  the  rain  comes  in 
its  season,  all  that  wild  and  howling  waste  becomes 
pasture-ground  for  cattle.  Beautiful  flowers  shoot  up 
and  shine  with  all  the  magical  brilliancy  of  tropical 
climes,  and  the  desert  becomes  a  garden  under  the 
blessing  of  the  rain. 

And  so  Christ  ever  comes  to  the  human  soul  to 
revive  and  to  bless.  He  comes  to  bring  forth  the 
flowers  and  fruits  of  Paradise  in  the  waste  of  the 
hardest  and  most  uncultivated  heart.  He  comes  to 
make  life  richer  and  purer — to  make  even  losses  and 
afflictions  the  means  of  profit  and  reasons  for  gratitude. 
He  comes  to  open  new  fountains  of  joy  in  the  heart,  as 
the  rain  opens  fountains  in  the  desert  and  causes 
springs  of  living  water  to  gush  forth  among  the  hills. 
He  comes  to  give  us  a  purer  atmosphere  to  breathe, 
and  a  brighter  light  to  shine  upon  the  path  of  duty,  as 
the  air  is  freshened  by  the  summer  shower  and  the  sky 
is  clearer  when  it  has  been  darkened  by  the  cloud  and 
swept  by  the  rain.  He  comes  to  bring  forth  in  our 
souls  the  beautiful  flowers  of  immortal  hope  and  the 
golden  harvests  of  eternal  love,  as  the  rain  clothes  the 
waste  with  blossoms,  covers  the  fields  with  grain  and 
loads  the  orchards  with  fruits.  Christ  conies  to  lift  the 
heavy  burdens  from  weary  shoulders,  to  remove  the 
fetters  from  suffering  limbs  and  captive  souls,  to  dissi- 


RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS.  289 

pate  the  dark  shadow  from  afflicted  homes,  to  make  all 
labor  and  trial  and  temptation  a  means  of  improvement 
and  something  to  be  thankful  for.  It  would  be  the 
grandest  discovery  the  world  has  ever  made  if  all  men 
could  learn  that  Christ  comes  only  to  bless,  and  that 
all  hearts  and  homes  would  be  revived  by  his  coming 
as  much  as  the  waste  is  revived  by  the  rain. 

When  the  rain  first  falls  the  air  is  darkened,  the 
light  of  the  sun  is  shut  out,  the  song  of  birds  is  hushed, 
the  foliage  is  bedewed  with  tears,  the  flowers  fold  their 
leaves  and  bow  their  heads  as  if  in  grief.  All  the  ele- 
ments of  conflict  and  ruin  seem  to  have  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  peaceful  heavens  and  the  suffering  earth. 
But  when  the  cloud  has  swept  by,  and  left  the  blessing 
of  the  rain  behind,  the  light  breaks  forth  with  new  bril- 
liancy, the  whole  face  of  Nature  is  wreathed  in  smiles, 
and  all  the  singing  tribes  in  the  woods  and  meadows 
lift  up  their  voices  in  thankful  song. 

And  so  to  many  a  poor  burdened  soul  it  seems  a  dark 
hour  when  Christ  comes  laden  with  blessings  to  make 
heaven  in  his  heart.  He  wants  to  be  happy,  and 
Christ  makes  him  weep.  He  wants  to  think  well  of 
himself,  and  the  sight  of  the  blessed  Christ,  crowned 
with  thorns  and  nailed  to  the  cross,  makes  him  feel  the 
burden  of  his  sins  as  he  never  did  before.  He  wants 
to  look  the  world  in  the  face  and  carry  his  head  as  high 
as  the  proudest  and  the  best,  and  when  he  looks  upon 
the  meek  and  lowly  Christ,  he  feels  like  bowing  down 

to  the  dust  with  shame  and  humiliation.     He  wants  to 

s 


290  BAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

move  on  in  the  journey  of  life  easily,  and  Christ  lays  a 
cross  upon  his  shoulders  and  bids  him  carry  it  all  the 
way. 

He  is  surprised  and  disappointed,  and  he  wonders 
how  it  can  be  said  that  religion  makes  people  happy. 
But  let  him  receive  Christ,  even  though  the  silent  look 
of  the  suffering  Saviour  should  break  his  heart  and 
make  him  weep.  Let  him  receive  Christ  as  the  thirsty 
field  receives  the  rain  and  the  perishing  grass  receives 
the  dew,  and  he  shall  be  lifted  up  from  his  humiliation 
and  his  face  shall  be  clothed  with  gladness,  as  the 
flowers  lift  up  their  heads  with  new  beauty  after  the 
rain  has  weighed  them  down  with  tears.  We  should 
think  it  a  very  foolish  thing  for  a  gardener  to  cover 
his  beds  of  flowers  lest  they  should  be  wet  and  beaten 
down  by  the  rain.  The  plants  thus  sheltered  from  the 
summer  showers  would  droop  and  die.  And  so  when 
the  love  of  Christ  comes  upon  you,  dear  friend,  like 
the  rain,  and  its  first  effect  is  to  bow  down  your  head 
and  make  you  unhappy,  still  receive,  reverently  and 
gladly,  that  holy  baptism  from  above,  and  it  will  make 
your  face  shine  like  flowers  wet  with  the  morning  dew 
— it  will  make  your  heart  sing  like  the  birds  after  the 
rain. 

Our  Father  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and 
the  good ;  he  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  the  unjust. 
No  monopoly  of  man  can  restrict  the  bounty  of  the 
sun.  No  decrees  of  sect  or  sovereign  can  tell  the 
clouds  on  whom  to  pour  their  gifts.  The  treasures  of 


RAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS.  291 

heaven  are  open  for  the  young  ravens  when  they  cry, 
not  less  than  when  sovereigns  appoint  the  well-ordered 
prayer  and  great  cathedrals  pour  the  choral  strain. 
The  flowers  and  the  mown  fields  rejoice  in  the  descend- 
ing rain  a.s  if  it  had  been  sent  only  to  relieve  their 
thirst,  and  the  little  sparrow  chirps  its  gratitude  for 
the  timely  shower  as  if  the  blessing  were  all  its  own. 
God  sends  the  rain,  and  swollen  brooks  shine  through 
the  valleys  and  leaping  torrents  sing  on  the  mountain 
side ;  the  revived  grass  bends  with  the  burden  of  grati- 
tude, and  the  parched  field  renews  the  promise  of  har- 
vest ;  the  grazing  flocks  go  forth  with  joy  to  the  green 
pastures,  and  all  the  singing  tribes  of  the  air  unite  in 
hymns  of  gratitude  and  praise.  God  sends  the  rain 
and  all  nature  is  revived.  The  sun  shines  with  a  more 
cheering  light,  the  landscape  glows  with  a  new  beauty, 
and  every  breath  of  air  is  quickened  with  new  life. 
It  woos  the  pale  invalid  to  the  open  window  to  breathe 
its  fragrance ;  it  kisses  the  fair  cheek  of  the  innocent 
babe  and  leaves  it  flushed  with  roses;  it  creeps  in 
through  the  grated  door  of  the  stony  cell,  and  whis- 
pers in  the  ear  of  the  hardened  criminal  that  he  need 
only  be  a  child  again  and  he  shall  find  a  place  in  his 
Father's  heart  and  a  home  in  his  Father's  house ;  it 
sweeps  through  the  narrow  street  in  the  crowded  city, 
gathering  up  the  lurking  poison  and  carrying  it  away 
on  its  wings ;  it  flies  over  the  tree-tops  and  sets  every 
leaf  in  a  tremor  of  joy  at  its  coming ;  it  restores  the 
waning  strength  of  the  aged  and  the  feeble,  and  it 


292  EAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

makes  the  hearts  of  the  young  and  the  happy  beat 
with  electric  fire ;  it  gives  hope  to  the  despondent  and 
comfort  to  the  afflicted  and  life  to  the  dying. 

All  this  can  the  air  do  when  freshened  and  quick- 
ened by  the  showers  that  water  the  earth.  And  this 
great  bounty  of  our  Father  in  giving  the  rain  is  set 
before  us  by  Christ  to  teach  us  the  great  lesson  of  love 
as  large  as  His  who  maketh  the  sun  to  rise  and  the 
rain  to  fall.  When  the  summer  cloud  covers  the  hea- 
vens every  shining  drop  which  descends  to  the  earth 
is  a  messenger  from  our  Father,  commissioned  to  say 
to  us  in  his  name,  "  Let  your  love  be  as  large  as  mine." 
When  our  hearts  are  heated  with  strife  and  tortured 
with  suspicion,  and  shriveled  with  selfishness,  God 
brings  his  rain-cloud  over  the  earth  and  pours  down 
his  blessing  as  bountifully  upon  the  objects  of  our  aver- 
sion as  upon  ourselves,  and  a  heavenly  voice  goes  sing- 
ing along  the  pathway  of  the  shower,  "  Be  the  children 
of  your  Father  in  love  to  all,  and  give  at  the  cry  of  the 
needy  as  freely  as  he  gives  the  rain."  When  you  have 
wandered  away  from  your  Father  and  made  the  best 
years  of  life  a  waste,  and  your  distrustful  heart  is  afraid 
to  return,  the  first  shower  that  comes  over  the  earth  will 
rebuke  your  fears  with  the  million  voices  of  the  falling 
drops :  "  He  will  revive  and  raise  you  up  as  the  rain 
revives  the  withered  grass.  His  going  forth  is  pre- 
pared as  the  morning  that  fills  the  world  with  light. 
He  will  come  to  you  as  the  rain  that  clothes  the  waste 
with  life  and  beauty." 


EAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS.  293 

We  all  know  that  the  rain  must  fall  or  everything 
will  droop  and  die,  and  yet  we  are  seldom  quite  ready 
for  it  when  it  comes.  If  God  should  wait  for  all  to  be 
prepared  and  pleased  before  sending  the  rain,  it  would 
be  so  long  in  coming  that  everything  would  die  of 
drought.  Somebody  is  upon  a  journey,  and  would  rather 
get  home  before  the  shower ;  somebody  is  at  work  in 
the  fields,  and  would  not  like  to  leave  his  task  before 
finishing  it ;  somebody  has  planned  a  joyous  festivity, 
and  would  like  to  have  the  skies  fair  all  day  and  the 
stars  shine  all  night.  And  so  if  everybody  should  be 
asked,  and  the  blessing  of  the  rain  should  be  withheld 
till  all  gave  consent,  millions  would  perish  before  it 
came. 

And  it  is  even  harder  to  get  a  universal  consent  to 
the  coming  of  Him  whose  blessing  descends  upon  the 
hearts  of  men  like  the  rain  upon  the  mown  grass. 
"Not  yet/'  says  the  little  child  playing  among  the 
flowers  when  Jesus  calls  and  says,  "  Follow  me."  "  Not 
yet,"  says  the  ardent  and  pleasure-loving  youth,  whose 
fiery  heart  is  full  of  hope,  and  whose  fervid  mind  can 
find  no  joy  in  bearing  the  cross.  "  Not  yet,"  says  the 
young  man,  whose  eye  is  dazzled  with  the  glitter  of 
wealth,  and  whose  ear  is  charmed  with  the  trumpet- 
blast  of  fame.  "  Not  yet,"  says  the  hard-working  man 
of  middle  life,  whose  shoulders  are  wearied  all  day 
with  burdens  heavier  than  he  can  bear,  and  whose 
heart  is  pained  with  bitter  anxieties  in  the  wakeful 
hours  of  the  night.  "  Not  yet,"  says  the  unhappy  old 


294  MAIN  ON  THE  MOWN  GRASS. 

man,  sinking  into  the  grave  with  the  weight  of  years, 
and  having  no  hand  on  whick  to  lean  when  descending 
into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  All  with  one 
consent  begin  to  make  excuse  when  Jesus  comes  as  the 
rain  comes  to  the  thirsty  earth.  And  why  not  yet  ?  Is 
it  too  soon  to  accept  a  blessing  which  God  gives  as 
freely  as  he  gives  the  sunshine  ?  Is  it  too  soon  to  for- 
sake earth's  bitter  fountains  for  waters  which  God's 
love  has  made  sweet,  and  which  shall  spring  up  into 
eternal  life  in  the  soul  ?  Can  there  be  too  much  haste 
in  obeying  the  call  when  Jesus  says,  "  Follow  me  ?" 


MJ  Blessing  as  tjje  $Jeto. 


/  will  be  as  the  dew  ttnto  Israel. — HosEA  xiv.  5. 


XIV. 

GOD'S  BLESSING  AS   THE   DEW. 

IMAGINE  myself  standing  upon  the  summit  of 
the  Righi,  an  hour  before  sunrise,  waiting,  in 
high  expectation,  for  the  king  of  day  to  come 
from  the  chambers  of  the  morning  and  shed  the 
glory  of  his  face  upon  the  wakening  earth.  It  is  mid- 
summer, and  the  whole  landscape  that  lies  beneath  and 
around  me  dimly  rising  to  view  in  the  growing  dawn 
affords  the  most  striking  contrasts  of  icy  solitudes  and 
blooming  cultivation.  In  all  the  world  there  is  scarcely 
another  scene  which  comprises  in  one  view  such  an 
abundant  display  of  the  creative  Might  that  made  the 
world  and  filled  it  with  blessings  for  man.  When 
lighted  up  with  the  full  glory  of  the  risen  sun,  it  will 
seem  like  a  vision  of  Paradise  let  down  from  God  out 
of  heaven. 

As  I  stand  and  gaze,  the  whole  vast  panorama  of 
mountain  and  hill  and  valley  and  lake,  wild  forest  and 
cultivated  fields  and  waving  harvests,  comes  forth  slowly 
with  the  dawn  from  the  darkness,  gently  laying  aside 
the  pall  and  shroud  of  night,  and  putting  on  its  robes 
and  splendors  for  the  coronation  of  the  king  of  day. 

297 


298  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

And  now  the  morning  mists  begin  to  rise  and  flow 
together,  until  I  can  count  a  score  of  white  lakes  em- 
bosomed among  the  dark-wooded  hills.  Masses  of 
vapor  float  into  the  narrow  valleys  and  look  like  bays 
and  broad  river-mouths,  laving  the  base  of  high  and 
shadowy  cliffs.  And  now,  as  the  dawn  grows  apace, 
the  mists  melt  into  air  and  the  actual  lakes  are  seen 
with  their  steel-bright  surfaces  lying  far  down  in  the 
deep  setting  of  the  mountains.  And  now  the  east  be- 
gins to  burn  with  the  near  approach  of  the  coming 
glory,  and  the  white  glaciers  look  like  streams  of 
molten  lava  flowing  down  the  rifts  of  the  mountain 
wall  that  stretches  a  hundred  miles  eastward  and  west- 
ward along  the  horizon.  Brighter  than  the  glaciers, 
the  virgin  snow  on  the  highest  peaks  catches  the  first 
beams  of  the  sun  and  burns  to  the  very  heavens  with 
solid  flame.  A  hundred  mountain-tops  are  all  ablaze, 
and  the  fire  burns  downward  to  the  dark  base  of  green 
woods,  and  then  breaks  out  in  an  efflorescence  of  purple 
and  blue  and  emerald  over  the  wild  pastures  and 
orchards  and  cornfields  sleeping  among  the  hills.  The 
gates  of  the  morning  are  thrown  wide  open  for  the 
coming  of  the  king  of  day : 

"  Lo !  now  apparent  all, 
Aslant  the  dew-bright  earth  and  colored  air, 
He  looks  in  boundless  majesty  abroad, 
And  sheds  the  shining  day,  that  burnished  plays 
On  rocks  and  hills  and  towers,  and  wandering  streams, 
High  gleaming  from  afar." 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW  299 

It  is  a  sight  worth  traveling  half  round  the  world  to 
see.  It  is  a  revelation  of  beauty  and  splendor  to  be 
remembered,  as  the  prophet  remembered  the  day  when 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  upon  him  and  he  saw  visions 
of  God  by  the  river  Chebar. 

And  now  comes  on  the  full  day.  The  rosy  tints  of 
the  long  mountain  range  give  place  to  the  cold  gleam- 
ing white  of  virgin  snow,  the  rising  mists  melt  into 
transparent  air  ;  the  sounds  of  busy  life  in  the  awakened 
villages,  the  call  of  shepherds  and  the  tinkling  of  bells 
as  the  flocks  go  forth  to  their  pasturage  rise  faintly 
from  below,  and  the  whole  landscape  of  mountain  and 
hill  and  plain,  still  lakes  and  smoking  villages  and 
shining  streams,  stands  forth  clearly  defined  and  fully 
embraced  in  one  sweep  of  the  eye. 

There  are  many  elements  which  combine  to  give  the 
contrasts  of  light  and  shade  and  the  glow  of  life  and 
beauty  to  this  most  enchanting  scene.  But  few  observ- 
ers are  aware  how  much  the  charm  and  freshness  of 
the  whole  mighty  vision  of  inconceivable  splendor 
depends  upon  that  gentle,  silent  ministration  of  Nature 
which  consists  in  the  falling  of  the  night's  dew.  The 
freshness  of  the  flowers  of  Eden,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
green  landscape  in  man's  garden-home,  were  all  derived 
from  the  dew,  for  as  yet  the  Lord  God  had  not  caused 
it  to  rain  upon  the  earth.  And  the  scenes  that  are 
most  like  Paradise  in  man's  worldwide  home  are  still 
blessed  and  beautified  by  the  gentle  dew.  Without  it, 
the  air  would  no  longer  reflect  the  varied  hues  of  the 


300  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

morning,  nor  would  the  clouds  come  trooping  in  daz- 
zling procession  to  escort  the  descending  car  of  the  king 
of  day.  The  earth  would  put  on  mourning  garments 
of  dusky  brown  or  funeral  black.  The  sun  would 
hang  a  ball  of  red  and  angry  fire  in  a  hot  and  coppery 
Bky,  and  the  sweet  singers  of  the  grove  would  pant 
upon  their  heated  nests,  careless  of  the  voice  of  the 
morning.  The  hills,  no  longer  wet  with  daily  baptism 
from  the  dewy  air,  the  plains,  no  longer  shining  in  the 
morning  light  with  coronets  of  pearly  dew,  would  look 
as  if  smitten  by  some  awful  curse  and  doomed  to  per- 
petual barrenness  and  desolation. 

The  land  of  Israel  was  peculiarly  dependent  on  the 
dew  of  heaven  for  the  beauty  of  its  landscape  and  the 
fertility  of  its  soil.  On  the  heights  of  Hermon  and 
Tabor  and  Gilboa  it  fell  in  abundance  like  the  rain, 
and  it  enriched  the  slopes  of  Carmel  and  the  plain  of 
Sharon  like  streams  in  the  south.  When  the  dew 
ceased  it  seemed  as  if  some  mysterious  curse  had  smit- 
ten all  the  hidden  powers  of  nature,  and  the  smile  of 
the  sweet  heaven  had  been  changed  to  frowns  of  wrath. 
The  sun  shed  a  sickly  and  disastrous  light  and  the 
moon  was  changed  to  blood.  The  murmur  of  the  wind 
seemed  like  the  wail  of  wandering  spirits  in  the  night, 
and  the  feathered  tribes  gave  no  song  in  response  to 
the  call  of  the  morning.  The  husbandman  wept  as 
he  gazed  upon  his  parched  fields,  and  the  bleating  flocks 
wandered  wearily  in  search  of  green  pasturage  among 
the  hills. 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  301 

It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  the  silent  and  refresh- 
ing fall  of  the  dew  should  often  be  used  in  the  Sacred 
Scriptures  as  a  symbol  of  the  sweetest  and  gentlest 
ministrations  of  God's  Spirit  and  word  to  man.  When 
the  blind  old  man  Isaac  would  invoke  the  choicest  of 
all  spiritual  and  temporal  blessings  upon  the  head  of 
his  beloved  son  Jacob,  and  upon  his  posterity  through 
all  generations,  he  said,  "  God  give  thee  of  the  dew  of 
heaven."  When  Moses  would  repeat  and  confirm  the 
prayer  and  the  prophecy  in  behalf  of  Joseph  and  of 
the  whole  nation,  he  said,  "  Blessed  of  the  Lord  be  his 
land  for  the  dew — his  heavens  shall  drop  down  dew." 
When  God  fed  the  famishing  host  of  his  people  with 
angels'  food  for  forty  years  in  the  desert  of  Arabia,  the 
bread  of  heaven  came  in  the  night  like  the  silent  dew ;  it 
lay  in  the  light  of  the  morning  like  frozen  dew  all  round 
the  camp.  When  the  great  Hebrew  lawgiver  addressed 
the  tribes  of  Israel  for  the  last  time,  and  he  would  give 
his  last  counsels  in  the  most  impressive  words,  he  broke 
forth  into  inspired  song  before  all  the  congregation, 
saying,  "  My  speech  shall  distill  as  the  dew." 

When  the  patient  and  afflicted  patriarch  Job  would 
describe  the  light  that  shone  upon  his  path  and  the 
peace  that  abode  in  his  tabernacle  in  the  day  of  his 
prosperity,  he  said,  "  The  dew  lay  all  night  upon  my 
branch."  The  Psalmist  compares  the  unity  of  brethren 
to  the  dew  of  Hermon  which  descended  upon  the 
mountains  of  Zion,  where  the  Lord  commanded  the 
blessing,  even  life  for  ever  more.  When  David  poured 


302  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

out  his  passionate  lament  for  the  death  of  Saul  and 
Jonathan,  and  he  would  invoke  the  most  withering 
curse  upon  the  disastrous  field  where  the  mighty  had 
fallen,  he  said,  "  Let  there  be  no  dew  upon  you,  ye 
mountains  of  Gilboa."  And  in  like  manner,  when 
Elijah  was  commissioned  to  stand  before  Ahab  and  call 
down  the  most  awful  judgment  upon  apostate  Israel, 
he  declared,  in  the  name  of  the  living  God,  that  there 
should  be  no  dew  in  the  land  for  years  but  according 
to  his  word.  Not  only  should  the  rains  of  heaven  be 
withholden,  but  not  even  the  gentle  moisture  of  the 
dew  should  cool  the  parched  earth. 

The  later  prophets  describe  the  peace  and  abundance 
of  the  millennial  age  by  saying  that  the  heavens  shall 
give  their  dew.  And  God  himself  promises  the  great- 
est spiritual  blessing  to  his  people  when  he  says,  "  I 
will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel."  And  in  all  time  that 
chosen  people,  blessed  of  the  Lord  and  nourished  like 
a  tender  plant  with  the  dews  of  divine  grace,  shall  grow 
as  the  lily  and  cast  forth  their  roots  like  Lebanon. 
Their  branches  shall  spread,  and  their  beauty  shall  be 
as  the  green  olive  tree.  They  shall  revive  as  the  corn 
and  grow  as  the  vine.  The  scent  thereof  shall  be  as 
the  wine  of  Lebanon. 

This  figurative  language  of  the  sacred  writers  has 
lost  none  of  its  meaning  or  beauty  with  the  advance  of 
time.  The  more  carefully  we  study  the  subtle  chem- 
istry of  the  dew,  the  more  fully  shall  we  see  its  fitness 
to  stand  as  the  symbol  of  God's  most  gracious  minis- 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  303 

trations  to  revive  and  to  strengthen  our  souls  in  the 
way  of  life.  When  we  have  searched  through  all  that 
the  severest  science  can  teach  concerning  the  nature  of 
the  dew,  we  shall  only  discover  additional  fitness  and 
beauty  in  the  imagery  of  psalmists  and  prophets,  who 
spake  as  they  were  moved  by  divine  inspiration. 

The  dew  comes  unsought,  and  it  falls  while  men 
sleep.  The  wild  bird  welcomes  the  morning  light  with 
a  song,  because  the  dew  has  given  freshness  to  all  the 
air  and  "  sown  the  earth  with  orient  pearl."  And  yet 
that  unconscious  worshiper  does  not  sing  its  evening 
supplication  for  the  dew.  We  ourselves  implore  the 
guardianship  of  the  unsleeping  Eye  while  we  slumber. 
We  ask  for  showers  to  refresh  the  earth.  When  God 
shuts  up  the  heavens  and  there  is  no  rain,  we  fast  and 
pray  and  millions  mourn.  Without  the  dew  the  fairest 
landscape  would  soon  seem  as  if  it  had  been  all  burnt 
over  with  fire,  and  men  would  look  up  with  "  mad  dis- 
quietude to  the  dull  sky,"  as  if  it  were  "  the  pall  of  a 
past  world."  And  yet  who  ever  prays  for  the  dew? 
Who  thanks  God  for  the  blessing  which  it  brings  ? 
The  gentle  dew  which  revives  the  life  of  every  living 
thing  comes  unasked,  and  it  falls  while  we  sleep. 

So  came  the  first  promise  of  spiritual  blessing  to  the 
lost  world.  It  came  unsought,  and  the  sinning  pair 
whom  it  came  to  save  hid  themselves  among  the  trees 
of  the  garden  to  escape  its  coming.  When  the  Son  of 
the  Blessed  began  his  search  through  all  the  wastes  of 
sin  and  sorrow  to  find  and  «ave  the  lost,  he  came  to 


304  GOJ)'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

his  own  and  his  own  received  him  not.  He  was  re- 
jected and  despised,  and  the  great  world  went  on  its 
dark  way,  just  as  if  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  had  not 
risen  upon  it  with  healing  in  his  wings.  The  great 
Shepherd  is  ever  going  up  and  down  the  wilderness  to 
seek  and  restore  his  lost  sheep,  and  yet  millions  give 
no  heed  when  he  calls.  It  is  enough  to  break  our 
hearts  when  we  consider  how  much  more  constantly 
our  heavenly  Father  is  thinking  of  us  than  we  of  him. 
We  lie  down  to  sleep,  and  he  keeps  us  in  safety  all  the 
night.  We  wake  and  find  our  hearts  beating,  and  our 
faculties  obey  the  command  of  the  will  as  they  did  the 
day  before.  Our  sleep  is  a  sinking  into  nothingness 
every  night.  Our  waking  is  a  resurrection  from  the 
dead  every  morning.  In  every  fibre  of  our  frames,  in 
every  faculty  of  our  minds,  in  every  pulsation  of  life, 
we  are  receiving  tokens  of  God's  watchful  care  every 
moment.  His  most  precious  blessings  encompass  us 
and  steal  in  upon  our  souls  as  gently  as  the  dew  falls 
at  night.  Let  this  consideration  touch  our  hearts  with 
tenderness  and  deep  gratitude.  Our  Father  is  thinking 
and  caring  for  us  in  ten  thousand  ways  when  we  have 
no  thought  of  him.  He  comes  to  bring  us  countless 
blessings  without  waiting  to  be  asked,  and  they  are  so 
precious  that  we  must  receive  them  or  perish.  If  our 
Father  should  forget  us  for  once,  or  should  come  to  our 
help  only  when  we  call  him,  we  should  feel  the  sting 
of  pain  in  every  nerve,  we  should  be  in  despair  every 
hour.  God  must  give  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  305 

that  we  can   ask   or  think,  or  our  existence  will  be 
a  burden  rather  than  a  blessing. 

The  dew  falls  in  gentleness  and  silence.  No  sight 
or  sound  indicates  its  coming.  We  know  of  its  pres- 
ence only  when  we  see  that  it  has  already  fallen. 
When  the  heavens  are  dark  with  threatening  clouds, 
when  the  waves  of  the  deep  break  with  angry  disso- 
nance upon  the  rocky  coast,  when  the  trees  of  the  forest 
bend  and  groan  in  the  night  wind,  there  is  no  dew.  A 
long  succession  of  disturbed  and  windy  nights,  with 
skies  overcast  with  clouds  that  give  no  rain,  drains  the 
vital  moisture  from  the  earth  and  brings  no  relief  from 
the  gentle  dew. 

The  heavenly  Comforter  shuns  the  noise  and  con- 
flict of  the  world.  The  voice  that  moves  heaven  and 
earth  with  its  power  is  more  gentle  than  a  sleeping 
infant's  breath,  when  it  speaks  in  the  secret  place  of 
the  soul.  We  know  that  the  new-creating  Spirit  has 
descended  into  the  depths  of  our  hearts  only  as  we  know 
that  the  gentle  wind  is  moving  on  the  lake  by  the  rip- 
ple on  the  surface  of  the  water.  When  better  desires 
and  emotions  arise  within  us,  we  know  that  the  inner 
sea  of  our  being  has  been  stirred  by  breath  from 
heaven.  When  Jesus  shows  himself  to  his  disciples, 
they  do  not  hear  the  sound  of  his  coming.  He  breathes 
upon  them  and  the  blessing  of  peace  enters  their  hearts. 
He  opens  their  eyes  to  see  him,  and  behold  he  is  already 
in  the  midst  of  their  assembly. 

When  society  is  disturbed  by  the  gusts  and  tempests 


306  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

of  human  passion,  when  the  noise  of  controversy  is  loud 
and  long  continued,  when  all  ears  and  tongues  of  men 
are  made  familiar  with  the  great  swelling  words  of 
boasting  and  strife,  which  are  clouds  without  water 
and  tempests  of  wind  without  rain,  then  there  is 
drought  and  famine  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  The 
visitation  of  his  Spirit  is  withholden,  and  the  preach- 
ing of  his  word  is  without  power.  It  is  only  when  the 
storm  is  past  and  quietness  succeeds  to  agitation,  that 
the  sweet  influences  of  the  divine  grace  are  felt.  Then 
only  the  dew  of  Heaven's  richest  blessing  descends 
upon  the  waste  places  that  had  been  parched  by  the 
dry  wind  of  controversy  and  burnt  by  the  unhallowed 
fire  of  fraternal  strife.  Then  the  people  of  God  de- 
plore the  leanness  which  contention  has  brought  upon 
their  souls  and  the  desolation  with  which  it  has  wasted 
the  heritage  of  the  Lord.  Then  they  go  into  secret 
places  to  bewail  their  sins,  to  commune  with  their  own 
hearts  and  to  walk  thoughtfully  before  the  Lord  of 
hosts,  and  then  the  dew  of  Heaven's  delayed  blessing 
descends  in  gentleness  and  in  silence. 

The  great  work  which  we  all  have  to  do  for  God 
and  our  own  salvation  is  not  one  which  can  be  best 
done  in  a  state  of  excitement  and  agitation.  It  is  some- 
thing to  be  thought  of  in  quietness  and  peace.  It  is 
something  to  be  done,  not  simply  when  the  soul  is  on 
fire  with  the  fervors  of  emotion,  and  feeling  has  taken 
the  place  of  thought,  and  the  helm  of  self-control  has 
been  lost  in  the  sea  of  excitement  and  conflict.  God's 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  307 

Spirit  moves  upon  the  mind  and  heart  together.  The 
rational  thought  and  the  right  feeling,  the  sound  mind 
and  the  pure  heart,  come  from  the  same  source.  Both 
are  quiet  and  strong.  The  movement  of  God's  Spirit 
upon  the  soul  is  like  the  gentle  wind,  which  would  not 
be  thought  to  be  moving  at  all  if  we  did  not  see  the 
foliage  waving.  It  is  like  the  summer  breeze,  which 
cannot  be  felt,  and  yet  under  its  gentle  pressure  the 
harvest-field  waves  in  billows  like  the  sea.  The  voice  of 
the  Spirit  is  still  and  small,  and  yet  it  is  more  persua- 
sive than  any  speech  of  man ;  it  is  the  mightiest  power 
in  the  universe  to  wake  the  dead  to  life  and  to  bring 
the  wandering  soul  to  God. 

The  dew  is  ever  near  and  abundant  in  the  great 
storehouse  of  the  atmosphere,  but  it  falls  only  upon 
objects  that  are  prepared  to  receive  it.  There  may  be 
as  much  moisture  in  the  air  when  no  dew  appears  as 
when  it  falls  most  abundantly.  The  gifts  and  graces 
of  God's  Spirit  are  ever  great  and  free.  To  possess 
and  enjoy  them  there  must  be  a  preparation  in  our 
own  hearts.  Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  our  Father  had 
hidden  his  face  from  us,  and  all  our  cries  and  supplica- 
tions are  lost  upon  the  empty  air.  At  another  time 
without  effort  we  mount  upon  the  wings  of  faith  to  the 
very  gates  of  heaven.  Sometimes  we  make  the  most 
fervid  and  impassioned  appeals  in  behalf  of  the  truth, 
and  our  words  fall  upon  the  hearts  of  men  like  sun- 
beams upon  icicles  in  a  winter's  day.  At  another  time 
a  word,  a  tone,  a  look,  will  break  through  the  flood- 


308  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

gates  of  feeling  and  open  the  fountains  of  tears.  And 
this  diverse  experience  gives  occasion  for  the  impres- 
sion that  at  times  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  brought 
very  nigh  and  at  others  it  is  far  off.  But  the  change 
is  in  us,  not  in  the  conditions  of  securing  the  greatest 
spiritual  blessing.  The  entrance  to  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  an  open  door.  It  has  been  thrown  wide  open 
by  Christ's  own  hand.  He  sends  out  heralds  in  every 
direction  to  say  to  all,  Come  in.  The  gate  is  not  barred 
nor  guarded  by  flaming  swords.  The  whole  array  of 
means  and  influences  set  before  us  in  the  gospel  is  de- 
signed to  draw  all  in,  to  shut  none  out.  If  any  fail  to 
enter,  it  must  be  because  they  choose  to  stay  without. 

On  the  same  night  dew  falls  abundantly  upon  some 
objects  and  not  at  all  upon  others.  The  source  and 
conditions  of  supply  are  the  same  to  all,  but  there  is  a 
difference  in  the  objects  themselves.  Every  green  leaf, 
every  live  blade  of  grass,  whether  skirting  the  road- 
side, carpeting  the  fields  or  clothing  the  forest,  receives 
the  refreshing  dew  upon  its  surface  and  sparkles  with 
rainbow  tints  in  the  morning  light.  But  the  hard- 
beaten  and  artificial  road,  the  dead,  cold  stone,  the 
leafless  and  barkless  trunk  of  the  blasted  tree,  receive 
no  dew. 

In  the  same  season  of  spiritual  visitation  from  on 
high,  some  hearts  are  abundantly  watered  with  the 
dews  of  the  divine  grace,  and  others  are  as  the  heath 
in  the  desert  that  knoweth  not  when  good  cometh. 
Every  living,  fruit-bearing  branch  is  sure  to  be  watered, 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  309 

that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit.  But  those  whose 
hearts  are  as  the  beaten  and  dusty  track  of  the  public 
road — open  for  the  passage  of  all  the  world's  burdens 
and  business — are  still  dry  and  lifeless  and  unrefreshed 
by  the  gentle  showers  descending  all  around  them. 
There  are  times  when  it  seems  as  if  we  were  breathing 
the  very  air  of  Heaven,  and  yet  even  then  the  precious 
dews  of  the  divine  blessing  can  find  no  place  of  contact 
with  souls  that  are  all  in  love  with  earthly  things.  If 
you  would  not  become  as  dry  and  fruitless  as  the  dusty 
road,  you  must  not  let  your  heart  be  made  a  public 
highway  for  the  world's  burdens  and  business  to  pass 
over  till  it  becomes  as  hard  and  insensible  as  the 
trodden  pavement.  You  must  not  sow  the  world's 
thorny  cares  where  God  would  plant  the  word  of 
life.  You  must  not  suffer  the  wicked  one  to  steal 
away  the  precious  seed  before  it  has  taken  root  in 
your  heart. 

The  dew  of  the  night  does  not  fall  upon  bodies  that 
are  slow  to  impart  their  warmth  to  others.  Those  who 
water  others  shall  themselves  be  watered.  Those  who 
give  the  warmth  of  their  own  hearts  to  comfort  others 
shall  themselves  be  comforted.  But  those  who  can  be 
afflicted  only  by  their  own  sorrows,  who  can  enjoy  only 
their  own  blessings,  labor  only  for  their  own  good,  must 
be  in  the  end  comfortless  and  desolate.  To  receive, 
we  must  give.  To  be  happy  ourselves,  we  must  live 
to  make  others  happy.  Our  own  hearts  will  be  filled 
with  all  joy  and  peace  when  we  are  ready  to  pour  out 


310  GOD'S  BLESSING   AS  THE  DEW. 

all  our  desires  and  affections  and  efforts  that  others  may 
share  our  joy. 

The  dew  does  not  fall  from  above  like  the  rain,  and 
yet  it  appears  only  on  objects  that  are  exposed  to  the 
open  sky.  If  we  would  receive  the  gentle  dew  of  the 
divine  grace  we  must  suffer  nothing  to  come  between 
our  hearts  and  Heaven.  It  is  our  privilege  and  duty 
as  God's  children  to  come  directly  to  him  and  ask  a 
Father's  blessing.  You  have  no  need  to  wait  for  favor- 
able times,  and  places,  and  occasions,  when  you  desire 
the  deepest  experience  of  God's  love  in  the  heart.  The 
Divine  Helper  is  ever  near  with  infinite  blessing  in  Us 
hand,  and  it  shall  be  all  yours  the  moment  you  give  up 
all  to  him.  Take  away  the  covering  of  worldliness  and 
unbelief  from  your  heart,  and  the  heavenly  dew  will 
descend  upon  you  in  such  fullness  that  you  cannot  ask 
for  more. 

Dew  falls  but  little  upon  the  smooth  and  brilliant 
surface  of  polished  steel  or  burnished  gold,  while  coarser 
and  less  costly  objects  are  freely  wet.  The  gentle  dew 
of  the  heavenly  grace  often  takes  effect  upon  the  rude 
and  uncultivated,  while  the  refined,  the  tasteful  and  the 
critical  are  left,  like  frost-work,  brilliant  and  beautiful, 
but  cold  and  dead.  The  acute  and  finely-cultivated 
Greeks,  the  stately  and  imperial  Romans,  were  not  the 
first  to  perceive  the  divine  simplicity  and  the  perfect 
beauty  in  the  life  and  teachings  of  Jesus.  And  to 
many  in  our  day  the  solemn  ordinances  of  religion  are 
all  mere  matters  of  taste.  They  would  have  the  singing 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  311 

and  the  sermon,  the  prayers  and  the  preaching,  the 
minister  and  the  people,  simply  an  exhibition  in  the 
fine  artSj  so  elegant  and  polished  that  the  dews  of  the 
divine  grace  cannot  touch  them.  They  would  make  it 
the  chief  object  of  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  delight  select 
audiences  with  fine  music,  and  perfect  elocution,  and  a 
few  sparkling  gems  of  thought  on  any  subject  that  an 
ingenious  mind  can  make  interesting.  If  the  odious 
and  awful  subject  of  sin  is  touched  upon  at  all,  it  must 
be  done  with  so  many  graces  of  speech  and  manner  as 
not  to  disturb  the  most  delicate  sensibility.  If  the 
arrows  of  truth  are  aimed  at  their  hearts,  the  bow  must 
be  drawn  so  gently  as  not  to  cause  a  wound  or  inflict  a 
pang.  There  is  some  hope  for  men  who  are  frank  and 
honest  enough  in  their  wickedness  to  wish  to  have  their 
Bins  called  by  their  right  names.  But  the  preacher 
needs  nerves  of  iron  and  the  faith  of  martyrs  to  tell 
over  and  over  again  the  same  homely  and  humbling 
story  of  the  cross  to  people  who  come  to  church  only 
to  applaud  anything  that  is  beautiful,  and  to  be  pleased 
with  anything  that  is  done  in  good  taste. 

The  dew  of  heaven  is  like  God's  spiritual  blessing  in 
its  mighty  effects  and  in  its  minute  and  gentle  applica- 
tion. It  comes  out  of  its  hiding  in  the  air,  and  goes 
back  with  a  step  light  as  the  sunbeams.  The  down 
upon  the  peach  or  plum  is  so  delicate  and  so  thickly 
set  that  you  cannot  touch  the  fruit  with  a  needle's 
point  without  breaking  the  tender  stalks.  And  yet  the 
dew  of  night  covers  the  whole  surface  of  the  fruit  and 


312  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

disappears  in  the  morning,  leaving  the  gossamer  growth 
more  orderly  and  beautiful  than  before.  The  dew 
covers  every  leaf  of  the  giant  oak,  and  the  mighty  tree 
drinks  in  the  refreshing  moisture  to  its  thirsty  heart 
through  millions  of  pores,  and  the  iron  trunk,  that  has 
withstood  a  thousand  storms,  is  made  stronger  by  the 
gentle  strength  of  the  dew. 

And  so  the  blessed  dew  of  divine  grace  can  refresh 
and  strengthen  equally  the  strongest  and  the  most  ten- 
der and  sensitive  heart.  The  words  that  you  speak, 
with  the  utmost  kindness  to  comfort  the  afflicted  may 
only  serve  to  open  all  their  sorrows  afresh.  And  yet 
the  Divine  Comforter  can  take  away  all  their  grief  so 
gently  that  they  shall  not  know  when  or  how  they  have 
been  comforted — only  the  burden  is  gone.  There  is  no 
fear  or  doubt  or  perplexity  of  mind  too  deep  or  dark 
to  be  reached  by  the  sweet  and  searching  influence  of 
the  divine  love.  The  benighted  wanderer  may  be  led 
forth  into  the  path  of  light  and  peace  so  gently  that  he 
shall  not  think  he  has  been  led  at  all,  only  he  has 
found  the  right  way.  And  all  equally  need  the  help 
from  above,  which  is  as  gentle  as  the  fall  of  the  dew 
and  as  constant  as  the  night.  The  feeblest  flower  and 
the  mightiest  tree  receive  life  and  strength  from  the 
same  source. 

The  silent  and  gentle  fall  of  the  dew  is  caused  and 
controlled  by  agencies  of  the  most  tremendous  and 
resistless  power.  The  earthquake  stirs  itself  in  its 
secret  chamber  for  a  few  seconds  and  the  everlasting 


GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW.  313 

mountains  tremble.  The  solid  crust  of  the  globe  is 
rent  beneath  our  feet.  The  sternest  face  turns  pale. 
The  stoutest  heart  is  melted  with  fear.  And  yet  the 
power  which  shakes  a  whole  continent  with  its  subter- 
ranean thunders  is  the  same  as  that  which  encircles 
the  finest  filament  of  thistle-down  with  a  coronet  of 
dewy  gems  so  small  that  they  do  not  bend  the  delicate 
stalk  with  their  weight.  The  tornado  covers  the 
heavens  with  darkness  and  desolates  the  earth  and  seas 
in  one  brief  hour  of  its  stormy  wrath.  And  yet  the 
same  power  which  sends  forth  the  tornado  upon  the 
pathway  of  ruin  silently  bedews  every  green  thing  at 
night,  and  lends  new  beauty  to  the  summer  landscape 
every  morning.  The  same  electric  force  which  speaks 
in  the  thunder  and  flashes  in  the  lightning,  and  flings 
its  fiery  bolts  from  cloud  to  cloud,  slumbers  in  the 
silent  air  of  our  bed-chambers,  fills  every  vein  and 
charges  every  fibre  of  our  bodies.  It  puts  forth  its 
mightiest  agency  in  changing  a  drop  of  Water  to  the 
dew  which  turns  to  frost  on  the  window-pane  in  a 
winter's  day.  It  lends  its  awful  and  mysterious  might 
for  the  transmission  of  man's  more  subtle  and  mysteri- 
ous thought  along  the  electric  wire,  from  nation  to 
nation  and  from  continent  to  continent,  all  round  the 
globe. 

And  so  nothing  is  so  gentle  as  the  sweet  influences 
of  God's  Spirit,  encouraging  the  faint-hearted,  strength- 
ening the  feeble,  reclaiming  the  wandering,  expostu- 
lating with  the  disobedient.  And  yet  that  mighty 


314  GOD'S  BLESSING  AS  THE  DEW. 

Spirit,  who  deals  with  us  so  gently,  governs  all  things 
in  the  universe  and  holds  at  his  disposal  the  infinite 
destinies  of  time  and  eternity.  The  thunders  and  the 
tempests,  the  quenchless  fires  and  the  blackness  of 
darkness,  are  all  at  his  command.  Bat  he  visits  us  as 
gently  as  the  dew  falls  upon  the  tender  flower.  He 
employs  the  sweetest  and  the  most  benignant  influences 
to  draw  our  hearts  to  holiness,  to  happiness  and  to 
heaven.  He  deals  kindly,  tenderly,  patiently  with  us 
all,  and  yet  he  can  be  wearied  with  coldness,  he  can  be 
grieved  away  by  neglect.  Alas  for  them  who  con- 
strain this  mighty  and  merciful  Friend  to  leave  them ! 
They  shall  be  as  the  barren  mountains  without  dew, 
and  as  the  waste  places  of  the  wilderness  without  rain. 


e  Jpitr  of  fob's  jjltasnxu. 


TTiou  shall  make  them  drink  of  the  river  of  thy  pleasures. — Ps.  xxxvi.  8. 


XV. 

THE   RIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

EXT  to  mountains  and  seas,  rivers  are  the  most 
strongly  marked  features  of  the  earth's  surface. 
Mountains  are  the  skeleton,  rivers  the  life  cur- 
rent, the  fertile  soil  and  all  that  grows  upon  it 
the  living  substance  of  the  body  of  the  globe.  All 
together  they  harmonize  in  one  life,  they  work  for  one 
common  end,  and  they  have  a  history  extending  through 
centuries  of  time.  Without  the  mountains,  there  would 
be  no  rivers ;  without  the  rivers,  the  earth  would  be  a 
universal  waste.  The  hand  that  can  touch  the  foun- 
tains of  the  rivers  and  seal  them  up,  can  send  the  track 
of  desolation  through  mighty  realms  and  fill  the 
homes  of  millions  with  mourning  and  death. 

Rivers  break  through  the  barriers  of  the  mountains 
and  level  a  broad  highway  for  nations  which  never 
wears  out.  Rivers  wear  for  themselves  channels  in  the 
solid  rock  where  the  boldest  engineer  would  not  attempt 
to  cut  his  way  through.  Rivers  carry  the  tribute  of  a 
thousand  hills  to  the  plains.  All  the  transports  in  the 
world  could  not  enrich  the  lovvlands  with  such  abun- 
dance as  one  great  river  bears  in  its  waters.  It  makes 

317 


318  THE  EIVEE   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

the  barren  mountains  support  the  life  of  millions. 
Rivers  build  up  new  territory  for  cultivation  where 
the  sea  had  undisputed  possession. 

Rivers  have  directed  the  tide  of  emigration  ever 
since  the  first  dispersion  of  the  human  family.  The 
mountains  were  sought  for  shelter  in  the  time  of  danger, 
the  river-basins  for  support  in  the  time  of  want.  The 
high  places  of  the  earth  and  the  munitions  of  the  rocks 
have  been  the  strongholds  of  robber  chieftains  and  the 
hiding-places  of  fugitives.  But  great  cities  have  been 
planted  beside  the  great  waters,  and  the  wealth  of 
nations  has  been  drawn  from  the  running  streams. 
We  must  turn  to  the  rivers  when  we  would  read  the 
fate  of  men  and  empires.  The  great  march  of  events 
in  the  world's  history  has  been  along  the  banks  of 
mighty  streams.  Whoever  would  trace  the  course  of 
Divine  Providence  in  the  life  of  nations  must  often  go 
to  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  the  Euphrates,  the  Indus,  the 
Ganges,  the  Rhine,  the  Danube  and  the  Po,  and  the 
lesser  but  more  famous  streams  of  the  Jordan,  the 
Tiber,  the  Rubicon  and  the  Granicus,  the  Seine  and 
the  Thames. 

Heathen  nations  have  worshiped  rivers  as  divine, 
and  in  the  Bible  itself  so  many  great  events  and  sym- 
bolical truths  are  associated  with  rivers  as  to  give  them 
a  peculiar  sacredness  in  the  minds  of  all  students  of 
the  Holy  Word.  The  home  of  the  first  human  pair, 
the  scene  of  the  sad  event  which  has  overruled  the  his- 
tory of  the  whole  world,  was  upon  the  banks  of  a  great 


THE  RIVER   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  319 

river  The  beauty  of  the  foliage  and  the  fragrance  of 
the  flowers  which  adorned  the  walks  of  Paradise  came 
from  the  fourfold  river  that  went  out  of  Eden  to  water 
the  garden.  The  division  of  the  human  family  into 
different  languages  and  nations,  and  their  dispersion 
over  all  the  continents  of  the  earth,  began  on  the  banks 
of  the  same  great  river.  Abraham  was  called  to  leave 
the  upper  waters  of  the  same  historic  stream,  and  go  a 
journey  of  hundreds  of  miles  into  a  strange  land  and 
among  a  hostile  people,  to  found  a  nation  which  should 
be  as  the  stars  of  heaven  for  multitude,  and  in  which 
all  the  other  nations  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed. 
The  beginning  of  a  new  growth  for  the  world,  the  new 
seed-corn  whose  harvests  should  fill  the  earth,  was 
taken  from  the  fountains  of  the  great  river  on  whose 
banks  the  tree  of  life  was  planted  in  Paradise. 

On  the  banks  of  the  same  stream  the  wretched  cap- 
tives of  Israel  hung  their  harps  upon  the  willows,  and 
wept  as  they  remembered  the  desolations  of  their  be- 
loved Zion.  The  wail  which  they  poured  to  the  breeze 
as  they  sat  by  the  waters  of  Babylon  has  been  the 
sacred  song  of  captives  and  exiles  in  all  time.  At  the 
great  imperial  cities  on  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates,  Eze- 
kiel  and  Daniel  saw  visions  of  God  in  which  the  stu- 
dents of  prophecy  are  still  reading  the  future  history 
of  the  nations  and  the  destiny  of  the  world.  Moses 
began  the  great  emigration  of  Israel,  and  the  gathering 
of  a  people  with  the  first  written  constitution  in  the 
world,  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  the  wanderings  of 


320  THE  RIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

forty  years  terminated  with  the  passage  of  the  Jordan. 
And  since  that  time,  in  all  sacred  literature,  death  is 
described  as  the  crossing  of  a  river,  and  to  gain  a  happy 
entrance  into  the  blessed  land  is  to  pass  over  Jordan. 

It  was  in  a  lonely  defile  beside  the  river  Jabbok 
that  the  patriarch  Jacob  wrestled  all  night  with  the 
angel,  and  so  established  an  argument  for  perseverance 
in  prayer  for  all  succeeding  time.  Everywhere  the 
strong  souls  who  plead  with  God  and  prevail  go  back 
to  the  dark  night  of  Peniel,  and  they  gather  courage 
from  the  roaring  voice  of  the  mountain  stream  to  say 
to  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant,  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go 
except  thou  bless  me."  The  brook  Cherith  was  the 
hiding-place  of  the  prophet  Elijah  when  he  had 
prayed  that  the  people  of  Israel  might  be  recovered 
from  idolatry  by  the  terrible  chastisement  of  drought 
and  famine,  and  the  wrath  of  Ahab  was  kindled  for 
the  destruction  of  the  servant  of  Jehovah.  When  the 
years  of  famine  had  done  their  work,  the  apostate  king 
and  the  tribes  of  Israel  were  gathered  to  the  river 
Kishon  under  the  brow  of  Carmel.  There  the  fire  of 
the  Lord  came  down  from  heaven  and  kindled  the 
sacrifice,  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  Elijah.  There  the 
prophets  of  the  false  god  were  slain  and  hurled  into 
the  rushing  stream.  There,  the  first  time  in  three  years 
and  a  half,  the  clouds  gathered  and  poured  down  rain 
upon  the  famished  earth.  When  the  mighty  prophet 
had  completed  his  work,  and  he  was  about  to  be  taken 
up  to  heaven  with  the  dazzling  escort  of  .chariots  of  fire 


THE  RIVER   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  32i 

and  horses  of  fire,  he  went  down  to  the  Jordan  and 
gmote  the  stream  with  his  mantle,  and  the  waters  di- 
vided, so  that  he  and  Elisha  passed  over  on  dry  ground. 
And  again,  at  the  stroke  of  the  same  mantle,  the  waters 
parted  for  Elisha  to  return.  So  three  times  the  sacred 
stream  obeyed  the  voice  which  cried  unto  it  in  the 
name  of  Jehovah,  and  yielded  a  dry  path  for  the  ser- 
vants of  God  to  pass  over. 

The  leprosy  of  Naaman  the  Syrian  was  washed  away 
in  the  waters  of  the  same  stream.  The  incarnate 
Redeemer  came  to  its  sacred  banks  to  be  baptized, 
although  his  pure  soul  had  no  sins  to  wash  away.  For 
eighteen  hundred  years  the  channel  of  the  stream  has 
been  filled  and  flowing  with  fresh  rains  from  heaven 
and  melted  snows  from  Hermon,  and  yet  millions  can- 
not be  persuaded  to  believe  that  in  all  the  earth  there 
is  another  river  so  sacred  as  that  in  which  the  Son  of 
God  bowed  himself  to  the  baptism  of  John. 

It  was  by  the  same  stream  that  Jesus  received 
the  divine  confirmation  of  his  mission  in  a  voice 
from  heaven,  saying,  "This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased."  The  Sea  of  Galilee,  every 
wave  of  which  is  consecrated  with  memorials  of  the 
Saviour's  life,  is  only  an  expansion  of  the  river  Jor- 
dan. The  brook  Kidron,  swollen  by  the  latter  rains 
of  spring,  mingled  its  midnight  murmurs  with  the 
prayer  of  Jesus  when  the  agony  of  Gethsemane  was 
upon  him.  He  passed  over  the  same  little  stream  in 

his  last  walk  with  his  disciples,  both  before  his  cruci- 
u 


322  THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

fixion  and  after  his  resurrection.  And  in  the  last 
glorious  vision  of  divine  revelation,  we  see  the  crowned 
and  conquering  King  worshiped  by  the  hosts  of  hea- 
ven, and  a  pure  river  of  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal, 
flowing  from  his  throne,  and  the  nations  of  the  saved 
walking  on  its  banks. 

Thus  the  geographical  importance  accorded  to  rivers 
in  the  great  system  of  Nature,  the  religious  reverence 
bestowed  upon  rivers  among  heathen  nations,  and  the 
many  miracles  of  divine  power  and  special  revelation 
connected  with  rivers  in  the  book  of  God,  supply  a 
threefold  reason  for  studying  the  great  streams  of  the 
earth  and  learning  the  sacred  lessons  which  they  are 
set  forth  to  teach  in  the  inspired  Word.  These  three 
circumstances  unite  to  give  meaning  and  beauty  to  the 
divine  promise,  that  the  children  of  men  shall  drink 
of  the  river  of  God's  pleasures.  Surely  there  can  be 
no  greater  bliss  for  man  on  earth  or  in  heaven  than  to 
depend  for  happiness  upon  the  source  which  is  suffi- 
cient for  the  infinite  God. 

The  original  home  of  man  in  his  perfect  state  was 
named  Eden — a  place  of  pleasures,  a  garden  of  delights. 
And  the  garden  which  was  given  to  the  sinless  pair 
was  watered  by  a  river.  The  lost  Paradise  shall  there- 
fore be  restored  when  man  is  permitted  to  drink  again 
of  the  river  of  God's  Eden — the  river  of  God's  pleas- 
ures. It  will  be  a  return  to  the  lost  delights  of  that 
holy  and  happy  state  when  man  heard  the  voice  of  God 
walking  in  the  garden.  Then  shall-  be  given 


THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  323 

access  to  the  tree  which  grows  upon  the  banks  of  the 
river  of  life,  and  whose  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations. 

What  is  pleasure,  as  we  find  it  in  the  severe  study, 
the  hard  toil  or  the  heated  chase  of  a  worldly  life  ?  It 
is  a  beautiful  flower  that  fades  before  it  is  blown ;  a 
dazzling  meteor  that  vanishes  before  its  place  can  be 
found ;  a  strain  of  music  that  begins  with  joy  and  ends 
in  woe ;  a  promise  that  is  made  to  the  hope  and  broken 
to  the  heart ;  a  dream  that  gives  us  all  our  desire  for  a 
moment,  and  leaves  us  to  wake  and  weep  that  the 
vision  can  never  become  a  reality.  The  most  for- 
tunate men  that  have  ever  lived — kings  and  conquerors 
that  have  ridden  upon  the  topmost  wave  of  success ; 
poets,  artists,  orators  that  have  had  the  envy  and  ap- 
plause of  nations ;  millionaires  with  possessions  greater 
than  they  have  ever  counted — have  expressed  the  most 
bitter  and  intense  dissatisfaction  with  worldly  pleasure. 
One  great  king,  in  reviewing  a  long  life  of  glory  and 
conquest,  thought  he  could  find  two  happy  days.  One 
great  author,  who  was  worshiped  as  a  very  demigod 
by  his  countrymen,  and  who  always  seemed  to  others 
supremely  satisfied  with  himself,  confessed  that  in 
eighty  years  he  had  not  found  a  week  of  pleasure. 
One  great  poet,  "who  touched  his  harp  and  nations 
heard  entranced,"  could  not  find  terms  strong  enough 
to  denounce  and  curse  every  day  of  his  life.  One  great 
diplomatist,  who  passed  through  the  most  terrible  and 
complicated  revolutions,  and  always  kept  himself  on 


324  THE  RIVER   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

the  winning  side,  said,  in  summing  up  the  results  of 
his  long  life,  that  he  could  find  nothing  to  approve  in 
the  past  and  nothing  to  hope  for  in  the  future. 

So  uncertain,  so  unsatisfactory  is  the  pleasure  which 
men  find  when  they  have  not  learned  to  drink  from 
the  river  of  God's  Eden.  The  abundance  of  his  pleas- 
ures is  sufficient  to  supply  every  human  want,  whether 
we  speak  of  the  blessedness  which  God  himself  enjoys, 
or  that  which  he  is  able  to  give ;  in  either  case  it  is  in- 
finite and  can  answer  the  necessities  of  all  souls.  He 
is  ever  able  and  willing  to  do  for  us  exceeding  abun- 
dantly above  all  that  we  can  ask  or  think.  We  have 
only  to  ask  and  we  shall  be  filled  with  all  the  fullness 
of  God.  It  is  utterly  impossible  for  an  impoverished 
and  praying  world  to  exhaust  the  abundance  of  the 
divine  blessings.  The  discoveries  and  inventions  of 
modern  times  have  greatly  increased  the  powers  and 
resources  of  the  human  family.  Common  men  can  now 
easily  do  what  the  greatest  kings  and  conquerors  of  old 
would  not  have  dared  to  attempt.  And  yet  this  most 
advanced  age  has  not  learned  how  much  of  everything 
may  be  had  by  asking  of  God. 

All  times  and  seasons,  all  trials  and  afflictions,  all 
honors  and  successes,  all  peace  and  safety,  all  joy  and 
triumph,  are  in  God's  hand,  and  he  can  control  them 
all  for  the  good  of  his  children  with  infinite  ease.  It  is 
our  wisdom  to  believe  ourselves  permitted  and  encour- 
aged to  ask  anything  and  everything  of  him,  with  the 
single  reserve  of  submission  to  his  wiser  and  better  will. 


THE  EIVEE   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  325 

Are  you  poor?  Ask  your  heavenly  Father,  and  he 
mil  either  give  you  riches  or  make  poverty  a  greater 
blessing.  Are  you  sick  ?  Ask  God,  and  he  will  either 
grant  you  recovery,  or  give  you  reason  to  praise  him  for 
ever  for  every  pang  you  suffer.  Are  you  embarrassed 
and  perplexed  in  your  worldly  affairs  ?  Ask  God,  and 
he  will  either  deliver  you  from  trouble,  or  make  it  the 
means  of  bringing  peace  and  joy  into  your  soul.  Are 
you  in  want  of  anything  ?  Go  to  your  best  Friend, 
pour  out  the  full  tale  of  your  sorrows  into  his  attentive 
ear,  and  be  not  afraid  to  believe  that  he  will  give  you 
to  drink  of  the  infinite  river  of  his  own  pleasures. 

It  is  the  greatest  discovery  that  a  man  ever  makes 
in  the  longest  life  of  study,  experiment  and  prayer 
that  the  infinite  and  exhaustless  sources  of  gratitude, 
contentment  and  peace  are  all  open  and  accessible  to 
him  every  moment.  If  he  owned  millions  of  acres, 
and  on  every  acre  were  springs  pouring  forth  rivers  of 
oil,  and  through  all  his  domain  were  streams  rolling 
down  golden  sands,  he  could  not  be  as  rich  as  he  is  in 
the  permission  to  drink  to  the  full  and  drink  for  ever 
from  the  river  of  God's  pleasures.  This  is  easily  said. 
If  we  believed  it  with  all  our  heart,  we  could  go  forth 
to  the  toil  of  each  successive  day  as  happy  as  if  we 
were  walking  the  streets  that  are  paved  with  gold,  or 
straying  in  company  with  angels  along  the  banks  of 
the  river  that  flows  through  the  Paradise  of  God. 
We  do  not  know,  the  mind  of  man  has  never  con  <• 
ceived,  how  much  if  heaven  the  fullest  exercise  of  faith 


326  THE  EIVER   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

can  bring  down  to  earth.  We  do  not  know,  we  are 
afraid  to  believe  it  when  told,  how  little  difference  it 
makes  to  any  man  where  he  is,  or  what  he  is  in  his 
worldly  relations,  if  only  his  heart,  his  soul  be  filled 
with  all  the  fullness  of  God. 

Such  is  the  abundance  of  the  river  of  God's  pleas- 
ures. And  that  mighty  stream  flows  along  every  man's 
path,  beside  every  man's  door.  It  pours  its  healing 
flood  into  every  man's  home.  The  journey  of  every 
man's  life  lies  along  its  banks.  The  refreshing  waters 
go  forth  from  every  page  of  the  divine  word,  from 
every  house  of  Christian  worship,  from  every  act  of 
Christian  duty,  from  every  call  to  a  holy  life.  The 
great  art  of  happy  living  is  to  learn  to  drink  from  that 
river — to  be  satisfied  with  such  blessedness  as  belongs 
to  the  infinite  God. 

I  know  something  of  the  life  of  a  man  who  is  often 
named  as  the  most  distinguished  philosopher  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  He  slept  but  four  hours  out  of 
twenty-four,  and  he  lived  ninety  years.  Never  sick, 
never  idle,  never  weary,  he  traveled  and  read  and 
wrote  and  studied  enough  to  wear  out  half  a  dozen 
ordinary  men.  He  learned  many  languages.  He  was 
familiar  with  every  department  of  science.  He  ex- 
plored vast  libraries.  He  knew  the  scientific  men  of 
all  nations.  He  received  a  hundred  thousand  letters. 
Princes  and  kings  delighted  to  do  him  honor.  Titles 
and  diplomas,  degrees  and  badges  of  distinction  were 
scattered  like  rubbish  about  his  room.  Ministers  of 


THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  327 

»tate,  generals  in  the  army,  officers  of  kingly  courts, 
professors  of  colleges,  travelers,  academicians,  students, 
citizens,  all  counted  it  a  privilege  to  have  seen  his  face, 
an  honor  to  have  known  him.  And  that  man,  with 
his  unwearied  and  wonderful  mind,  ranged  through  all 
the  departments  of  nature,  science,  literature,  philoso- 
phy, and  found  no  God,  no  Saviour,  no  heaven,  no 
promise  or  prospect  of  everlasting  life.  With  all  his 
discoveries  he  never  found  the  river  of  God's  pleasures. 
I  know  something  of  the  life  of  another  man,  who 
was  not  permitted  even  to  own  himself.  He  lived  and 
labored  and  suffered  for  another  man's  profit,  for 
another  man's  pleasure.  The  value  of  his  life  was 
estimated  as  men  estimate  the  value  of  farms  and  mer- 
chandise. The  creations  of  art,  the  stores  of  literature, 
the  wonders  of  science,  the  refinements  of  taste,  the 
rewards  of  industry,  the  stimulus  of  intellectual  culti- 
vation, the  charms  of  home,  the  delights  of  peace  and 
liberty,  were  not  for  him.  And  yet  that  poor  man  had 
such  pleasures  as  belong  to  the  infinite  God.  He  had 
expectations  that  overpassed  the  boundaries  of  earth 
and  time.  He  could  read  his  title  clear  to  mansions  in 
the  skies.  He  looked  upon  the  whole  realm  of  nature 
as  the  possession  of  his  Father,  and  the  whole  infinite 
blessedness  of  an  everlasting  life  as  the  portion  given 
him  in  his  Father's  will.  He  could  alleviate  the  weary 
toils  and  the  dark  hours  of  earthly  bondage  by  sweet 
anticipations  of  eternal  rest.  He  did  not  complain 
of  wrong — he  did  not  mourn  over  his  hard  lot.  He 


328  THE  EIVER   OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

knew  it  would  soon  be  over;  and,  last  as  long  as  it 
might,  he  knew  that  the  toil  and  affliction  of  earth 
could  only  increase  the  preciousness  of  the  final  rest. 

Which  of  these  two  men,  think  you,  had  found  out 
the  great  secret  of  happy  living,  the  philosopher  or  the 
slave  ?  Which  had  formed  the  truest  estimate  of  the 
value  of  life  ?  Which  had  most  reason  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  fruit  of  all  his  labor  under  the  sun — the  one 
whom  kings  delighted  to  honor  and  whom  philosophers 
acknowledged  as  their  master,  or  the  one  whom  nobody 
honored,  and  who  was  not  permitted  to  be  even  his  own 
master  ?  Which  of  the  two  could  best  direct  the  weary 
and  the  thirsty  to  the  river  of  God's  pleasures  ? 

I  have  stood  beside  a  mountain  stream  when  it  was 
swollen  by  the  melting  snows  and  the  abundant  rains 
of  spring.  The  turbid  flood  rushed  by  with  maddening 
and  impetuous  speed.  Trees  were  uptorn  and  whirled 
down  the  foaming  torrent.  Vast  rocks  were  loosened 
from  their  ancient  bed  and  moved  out  of  their  place. 
High  banks  were  undermined  and  new  channels  formed,, 
through  which  the  wild  waters  rushed  in  devastating 
fury  over  farms  and  fields  and  domestic  gardens. 
Flocks  were  carried  away,  bridges  and  highways  de- 
stroyed, the  dwellings  of  men  endangered  by  the  ruth- 
less flood.  Again  I  stood  on  the  same  bank  in  mid- 
summer, when  the  parched  fields  had  most  need  to  be 
refreshed  by  living  streams  from  the  mountains.  A 
shallow  and  long-extended  channel  of  gray  rocks  and 
drifted  gravel  and  white  sand  lay  before  me,  but  there 


THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S'  PLEASURES.  329 

was  no  water.  The  hot  sun  shot  his  fiercest  beams 
through  the  glimmering  air,  and  my  feet  were  burned 
by  the  heated  stones,  as  I  walked  in  the  dry  bed  of  the 
stream,  as  if  I  had  been  climbing  the  crater  of  a 
volcano. 

And  I  said,  This  inconstant  and  wasteful  river  is  a  fit 
emblem  of  the  brief  and  blasting  pleasures  of  appetite 
and  passion.  In  the  mad  hours  of  excitement  and  self- 
indulgence  they  sweep  through  the  soul  like  a  moun- 
tain torrejjfc,  carrying  away  all  the  barriers  of  reason 
and  conscience,  overturning  all  the  beacon-lights  of 
experience  and  undermining  all  the  foundations  of  good 
habits  and  virtuous  resolutions.  The  whole  man  is  swept 
along  by  the  torrent  of  passion,  pleasure,  self-indul- 
gence, temptation.  For  a  time  he  is  wild  with  joy,  with 
pride,  with  hope,  with  success.  But  when  the  flood  of 
worldly  triumph  has  run  its  course  and  subsided,  as  it 
soon  must,  and  the  season  of  trial  comes,  the  secret 
springs  of  the  soul  are  all  dried  up.  It  can  show  nothing 
but  blight  and  ruin  where  the  wild  and  wasteful  torrent 
of  passion,  pride  and  worldliness  swept  through.  It 
can  only  writhe  and  groan  under  the  burning  heat  of 
adversity,  and  long  for  the  flood  of  some  new  excite- 
ment to  come  in  and  cover  the  desolation  which  the 
former  made. 

I  have  stood  on  the  banks  of  a  full,  strong  aad 
mighty  river,  and  I  have  seen  it  flowing  on  in  its  self- 
dependent  greatness  and  constancy  through  all  seasons 
of  the  year,  calm  and  serene,  yet  resistless  in  force, 


330  THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

keeping  ever  within  its  banks,  and  yet  breaking  through 
the  barrier  of  the  everlasting  mountains  in  its  course. 
I  have  seen  such  a  river  in  summer  and  in  winter,  in 
storm  and  in  sunshine,  always  the  same.  The  heat 
could  not  dry  it  up,  the  ice  could  not  fetter  its  march, 
the  floods  could  not  excite  its  current  to  passionate 
haste,  the  thirsty  soil  could  not  exhaust  its  fullness. 
On  it  moved  evermore  in  the  majesty  of  strength  and 
the  beauty  of  beneficence,  bearing  great  burdens  with- 
out weariness,  enriching  millions  without  exhaustion, 
carrying  life  and  health  and  abundance  wherever  it 
flowed. 

And  I  thought,  Such  is  the  river  of  God's  pleasures 
by  which  every  humble  and  believing  soul  is  refreshed — 
of  which  all  the  thirsty  are  permitted  to  drink.  God's, 
pleasures  give  peace  and  strength.  They  never  weary 
with  excitement  or  inflame  with  passion.  They  come 
from  sources  that  are  exhaustless  and  unchanging  like 
the  infinite  God.  They  never  blast  and  destroy,  like 
the  wild  floods  and  whirlpools  of  earthly  passion.  If 
you  would  be  calm  in  the  midst  of  agitation ;  if  you 
would  be  strong  when  men's  hearts  are  failing  them 
for  fear ;  if  you  would  be  cheerful  and  light-hearted  in 
the  midst  of  losses  and  afflictions  and  disappointments, 
— satisfy  the  thirst  of  your  soul  day  by  day  from  the  river 
of  God's  pleasures.  Learn  by  decisive  experiment  the 
great  art  of  drawing  happiness  from  the  same  source 
with  the  infinite  God.  Open  the  floodgates  of  your 
heart  thai  the  river  of  God's  pleasures  may  flow  in. 


THE  EIVEE  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  331 

The  fountains  of  the  river  Nile  are  far  away  among 
the  highlands  of  Central  Africa.  They  are  filled  by 
the  rains  of  heaven  falling  upon  mountains  that  the 
inhabitants  of  Egypt  have  never  seen,  and  adventurous 
travelers  have  been  seeking  for  centuries  without  find- 
ing. But  when  the  streams  and  tributaries  are  all  full, 
and  the  mighty  river  is  once  formed,  it  flows  on  for  a 
thousand  miles  without  receiving  a  single  tributary, 
carrying  life  and  fertility  through  a  country  which 
without  the  Nile  would  be  a  waste  of  sand.  The  green 
belt  of  gardens  and  fertile  fields,  extending  through  the 
desert  thirteen  hundred  miles  from  Nubia  to  the  Medi- 
terranean, is  all  made  by  one  river,  whose  strength  to 
cross  and  fertilize  the  waste  is  hidden  far  away  in  foun- 
tains that  have  been  conjectured,  but  never  found.  It 
has  long  been  thought  an  inexplicable  wonder  that  a 
river  can  roll  so  far  over  a  thirsty  desert,  receiving  no 
tributary,  increased  by  no  rains,  diffusing  life  and  fer- 
tility all  the  way,  and  yet  not  be  dried  up. 

This  wonder  in  the  natural  world  is  infinitely  sur- 
passed by  that  river  of  God's  pleasures  which  has  its 
fountain  in  the  eternal  throne  and  which  flows  forth  to 
fill  the  universe  with  blessing.  Whoever  drinks  till 
his  soul  is  thoroughly  filled  from  that  gladdening 
stream,  can  go  through  all  the  waste  places  of  the 
earth  diffusing  life  and  blessing  wherever  he  goes. 
He  grows  richer  in  his  own  heart  by  giving  to  others. 
He  finds  his  own  happiness  in  making  others  happy. 
The  da'ly  life  of  a  good  man  is  a  fountain  which  en- 


332  THE  RIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

riches  and  refreshes  all  that  come  near.  It  is  only 
because  the  love  of  Christ  has  opened  such  fountains 
in  many  hearts  that  the  world  is  not  dried  up  to  a 
desert.  If  it  were  not  for  the  streams  of  light  and 
salvation  which  the  gospel  pours  through  all  our  bor- 
ders, every  city  in  America  would  become  a  Sodom, 
and  the  groves  and  green  hills  of  the  open  country 
would  become  like  the  high  places  of  Baal  for  the 
offering  of  human  sacrifice  and  the  abominations  of  the 
heathen  worship. 

The  traveler  who  ascends  the  tower  of  the  Capitol  in 
modern  Rome,  and  surveys  the  scene  where  the  mis- 
tross  of  the  ancient  world  sat  throned  upon  her  seven 
hills,  is  sure  to  have  his  attention  arrested  by  the  long 
lines  of  broken  arches  striding  across  the  melancholy 
Campagna  and  deepening  the  aspect  of  desolation 
which  rests  on  everything  outside  the  walls.  And  he 
learns  that  those  long  ranges  of  crumbling  stone  are 
the  remains  of  aqueducts  that  brought  water  in  living 
streams  from  the  distant  hills  to  the  capital  of  the 
world's  great  empire.  Sixty  miles  away  were  the 
fountains  from  which  the  millions  of  the  mighty  city 
drank  in  the  day  of  her  pride  and  power.  Now  the 
streams  have  been  cut  off,  and  Rome,  in  comparison 
with  her  former  greatness,  is  a  desert.  And  her  deso- 
lation has  come  not  so  much  because  the  .water  from 
the  hills  has  ceased  to  flow  along  the  broken  arches,  as 
because  the  river  of  God's  word  is  no  longer  free  to  flow 
through  all  her  streets.  Let  the  blessed  stream  of  the 


THE  EIVER  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES.  333 

divine  word  come  freely  in  through  all  her  gates,  and 
she  shall  rise  from  her  ruins  and  rebuild  her  waste 
places  with  a  beauty  and  splendor  surpassing  her  high- 
est glory  in  ancient  time. 

And  this  river  of  salvation  is  destined  to  flow  over 
all  the  earth,  and  everything  shall  live  where  the  river 
cometh.  The  flowers  shall  put  on  a  new  beauty,  the 
trees  and  vines  shall  bend  with  more  luscious  fruit,  the 
fields  shall  wave  with  more  abundant  harvests,  the  ships 
of  commerce  shall  bring  richer  products  from  distant 
lands,  the  people  shall  be  clothed  with  more  beautiful 
fabrics,  houses  shall  be  furnished  with  more  to  minis- 
ter to  comfort  and  taste,  all  skies  shall  be  more  genial, 
all  climates  more  healthful,  all  occupations  shall  be 
more  pleasing  and  profitable,  the  dew  shall  fall  on  the 
desert  and  the  rain  shall  fertilize  the  waste  places  of 
the  wilderness,  in  that  glad  time  when  the  river  of  sal- 
vation flows  through  all  the  earth.  There  shall  be 
fidelity  in  friendship  and  justice  in  trade,  kindness  on 
the  lip  and  love  in  the  heart,  truthfulness  and  courtesy 
in  the  intercourse  of  society,  happiness  and  purity  in 
private  life.  Children  shall  honor  their  parents,  and 
parents  shall  be  blessed  in  their  children;  every  house 
shall  be  a  sanctuary,  every  human  talent  and  posses- 
sion shall  be  an  offering,  every  soul  a  living  temple 
unto  the  Lord,  in  that  blessed  day  when  all  the 
nations  shall  learn  to  drink  of  the  river  of  God's 
pleasures. 

If  we  take  the  guidance  of  the  offered  Hand,  we 


334  THE  EIVEE  OF  GOD'S  PLEASURES. 

have  only  one  deep  and  dread  river  to  pass  over,  and 
our  journey  will  end  in  triumph  and  repose.  We 
shall  walk  without  weariness  upon  the  banks  of  the 
river  of  life,  whose  waters,  clear  as  crystal,  flow  forth 
from  the  throne  of  God.  With  the  light  of  heaven  round 
as  and  the  nations  of  the  saved  for  our  companions,  it 
will  be  unspeakable  happiness  to  remember  that  foun- 
tains opened  by  us  are  still  sending  forth  living  waters 
on  earth  and  inviting  the  thirsty  to  drink.  It  will  in- 
crease the  blessedness  of  heaven  itself  if  even  there  we 
can  welcome  others  coming  up  from  earth  and  finding 
us  out,  to  tell  us  that  some  word  of  ours  drew  them  to 
drink  of  the  river  of  God's  pleasures.  Let  this  then 
be  the  comfort  of  the  weary:  We  shall  reach  our 
Father's  house  and  rest  in  glory  for  ever.  Our  Father's 
house  with  its  many  mansions,  the  throne  of  Jesus 
with  the  surrounding  hosts  of  saints  and  seraphim, 
the  sea  of  glass  covered  with  the  conquerors  of  death 
and  waving  in  billows  of  melody  responsive  to  the 
harps  of  God  and  the  song  of  the  Lamb,  the  golden 
streets  and  the  sapphire  wall  and  the  trees  of  life,  and 
the  blessed  company  clothed  in  white,  are  all  waiting 
for  us  beyond  the  river. 


rtti<ras  Clings  flf  %  plls, 


Blessed  of  the  Lord  be  his  land,  for  the  precious  things  of  the  lasting  hills.-' 
DEUT.  xxxiii.  13,  15. 


Tmr.T./VST  LOOK  OF    THE  HILLS 


XVL 

'I  ME  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

fcL 

•1ON(;  the  crowning  excell<-ne<-;  of  the  lot  of 

Kphraim  and  Manasseh,  Moses  named  the  chief 

^H  of  the  aneienl,  inountain:-;  and  the  preeioiIS 
of  the  lasting  hill  .  In  the  lant  Holernn 
and  prophetie  words  which  he  addressed  to  the  tribes 
of  I:-.raeJ,  he  dwelt  with  peculiar  earnestness  of  feeling 

and  beauty  of  expre-.-.ion    upon    the  preeioux  thing-   of 

the  hi  .ting  hills.    lie  had  many  times  before  raised 
x-.etationn  of  the  weary  and  foot-worn  wanderers 
desert  by  deneribing  their   promi-ed  inherifanee 
as  a  land  of  hills  and  valleys,  a  land  that  drinkcth 
water  of  the  rain  of  heaven,  a  land  on  which  the 
of  the  Lord  God  rests  for  good  through  all  the 

To  a  people  who  had  lived  upon  the  dead  level  of 
pt,  and  had  wandered  forty  years  up  and  down 
the  de-erf-,  of  Arabia,  the  sunny  hills  and  green  pas- 
ture    of  Palestine  must  have  seemed  in  the  distant 
like  an  earthly   Paradwe.      All   great  and 
noble  npirit:-;  among  men  have  felt  a  peculiar  joy  in  the 

bill:-:.     And   thone  who  have  spent  their  early  years 
v  i»r 


338  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

upon  the  monotonous  plain  have  turned  with  a  still 
more  passionate  and  sacred  longing  to  the  high  places 
of  the  earth.  The  most  lofty  and  inspiring  descrip- 
tions of  Nature  among  mountains  have  come  from  men 
who  in  early  life  longed  for  the  hills  as  we  long  for  the 
land  that  eye  hath  not  seen.  The  aged  leader  of  the 
tri  bes  must  have  had  this  longing  with  such  an  intense 
and  sacred  passion  as  to  mingle  the  hills  of  Palestine 
and  those  of  the  better  country  in  his  excited  imagina- 
tion. And  to  gratify  that  feeling,  permission  was  given 
him,  as  a  last  earthly  favor,  to  go  up  to  the  top  of 
Pisgah  and  survey  the  beautiful  land  which  awaited 
its  new  possessors  beyond  the  Jordan.  It  is  certainly  a 
notable  circumstance  that  to  this  most  honored  servant 
of  God  in  ancient  times,  permission  to  climb  a  high 
mountain  and  gaze  upon  a  wide  and  beautiful  landscape 
was  given  as  a  sacramental  preparation  for  death.  Let 
mountain-climbers  remember  the  last  scene  in  the  life 
of  Moses,  and  they  will  look  forth  upon  the  landscape 
with  feelings  of  reverence  and  solemn  worship  when 
they  stand  on  the  high  places  of  the  earth. 

The  forty-years'  march  of  the  wilderness  was  ended ; 
the  camps  of  the  gathered  host  were  pitched  for  the  last 
time  under  their  great  leader's  eye.  For  a  whole  gen- 
eration the  burden  of  a  great  people  had  been  laid  upon 
him;  he  had  carried  them  in  his  bosom  as  a  tender 
father  carries  an  infant  child.  At  times  he  had  been 
so  afflicted  and  discouraged  by  their  murmurings  and 
sorrows  as  to  beg  of  God  as  a  favor  that  he  might  die 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  339 

at  once  and  not  live  to  see  his  own  wretchedness.  But 
now  the  pathways  of  the  desert  were  all  passed  ovei. 
The  terrible  chastisements  of  plague  and  poisonous 
serpents  and  avenging  fire  were  ended.  The  exultant 
tribes  were  just  about  to  set  forth  upon  their  triumphal 
march  into  the  land  of  promise.  In  full  view  before 
them  were  wooded  hills  and  grassy  plains,  seeming  the 
more  beautiful  and  inviting  to  them  because  they  had 
wandered  a  whole  lifetime  in  the  howling  waste  of 
Arabian  deserts.  Just  now  the  one  man  who  has  suf- 
fered everything  for  their  sake,  and  has  even  prayed 
that  his  own  name  might  be  blotted  from  God's  book 
of  life  if  they  cannot  be  saved — even  he  is  commanded 
to  turn  away  his  face  from  his  beloved  people,  and  go 
up  into  a  solitary  mountain  and  die  there  alone. 
Though  the  meekest  of  all  men  on  the  earth,  Moses 
had  given  way  to  provocation  and  had  trespassed 
against  the  Lord  at  the  waters  of  Meribah,  and  there- 
fore he  must  not  be  permitted  to  go  in  unto  the  land 
which  the  Lord  had  given  to  Israel.  This  instance  of 
seeming  severity  in  God's  dealings  with  his  most  hon- 
ored servant  must  stand  in  everlasting  memorial  upon 
the  sacred  page,  that  others  may  not  give  way  to  temp- 
tation and  shut  themselves  out  from  the  Better  Land. 

Turning  slowly  and  sadly  from  the  sacred  tabernack 
over  which  the  pillar  of  cloud  hovered,  and  in  which 
he  had  so  many  times  conversed  with  Jehovah  face  to 
face  as  a  man  talks  with  his  friend — turning  from  the 
goodly  tents  of  Jacob,  which  were  spread  forth  upon 


340  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

the  plain,  like  gardens  by  the  river-side — he  sets  his  face 
toward  the  mountains  and  begins  to  climb  the  steep 
ascent  of  Nebo  to  find  the  place  of  his  death.  An 
old  man,  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  of  age,  leaves 
behind  him  the  people  whom  he  has  loved  with  a  love 
stronger  than  death,  and  he  goes  away  into  the  solitude 
of  the  uninhabited  heights  to  die  alone.  No  friendly 
hand  shall  smooth  the  pillow  for  him  to  lie  down  to 
his  last  sleep.  No  human  face  shall  bend  over  him 
with  its  look  of  sympathy.  No  human  voice  shall 
whisper  words  of  peace  and  comfort  to  cheer  him  in 
his  departure.  The  chiefs  and  elders  of  the  tribes 
shall  not  be  permitted  to  come  and  tell  him  how  dear 
he  had  ever  been  to  their  hearts,  notwithstanding  all 
their  murmurings  and  rebellions.  No  loving  eyes 
shall  weep  when  death  casts  its  pale  shadow  upon  his 
aged  brow.  The  weeping  and  mourning  of  his  deso- 
late people  shall  be  far  away  in  the  distant  plains  while 
he  sleeps  in  his  unknown  grave,  and  no  one  shall  ever 
be  permitted  to  shed  a  tear  or  raise  a  memorial  stone 
upon  the  place  of  his  burial. 

Slowly,  step  by  step,  he  climbs  the  stony  mountain- 
path,  now  hiding  himself  in  the  shadow  of  deep  ravines, 
and  now  coming  out  upon  a  projecting  crag  and  looking 
down  with  longing  eyes  upon  the  great  encampment 
of  his  people  in  the  plain  below.  He  would  gladly 
bear  all  their  murmurings  and  share  all  their  conflicts, 
if  he  might  go  over  Jordan  with  them  and  possess  the 
goodly  land  beyond.  Many  a  time  and  with  deep 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  341 

earnestness  has  he  besought  the  Lord  that  this  joy 
might  be  given  to  crown  his  long  life  of  suffering  and 
toil.  But  no,  it  must  not  be.  There  is  no  forgetting, 
no  resisting  the  stern  command — "  Get  thee  up  into 
this  mountain  and  die." 

As  a  last  and  peculiar  favor,  when  he  reaches  the 
utmost  height,  he  is  permitted  to  behold  the  land  afar, 
in  its  utmost  extent  of  hills  and  valleys,  wild  forests 
and  fertilizing  streams.  Northward  the  range  of  snow- 
ehining  Hermon  hangs  like  a  white  cloud  in  the  sky. 
And  there  is  the  vision  of  beauty  and  verdure  which 
the  meek  old  man  had  longed  and  prayed  with  a  child's 
fondness  of  desire  to  behold — there  is  Lebanon,  the 
goodly  mountain,  clothed  in  its  royal  robe  of  purple 
cedars,  and  sending  forth  the  life-giving  tribute  of 
perpetual  streams.  The  oak  groves  and  the  table-lands 
of  Gilead  and  Tabor  and  Gilboa  and  Little  Hermon, 
and  the  sunny  hills  of  Galilee  rise  in  the  nearer  pros- 
pect, and  far  away,  westward  to  the  utmost  sea,  extends 
the  excellency  of  Carmel,  the  teeming  plain  of  Megiddo 
and  the  rose-crowned  beauty  of  Sharon.  Eight  beneath 
him,  Jericho  sits  like  a  queen  beneath  her  canopy  of 
feathery  palms,  and  just  beyond,  sharply  defined  in  the 
clear  air,  rise  the  heights  of  Olivet  and  Bethlehem  and 
Hebron,  and  the  rocky  shoulder  of  Moriah  just  seen 
through  the  parted  hills.  Southward,  lying  deep  be- 
tween its  melancholy  shores,  the  Sea  of  Death  spreads 
its  steel-bright  waves  in  the  morning  sun,  and  the 
blasted  plain  of  Sodom  appears  to  heighten  the  beauty 


342  THE  PEECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

of  the  living  landscape  everywhere  else  rising  to 
view. 

On  all  these  things  Moses  gazed  with  undimmed  and 
enraptured  eye,  while  the  Lord  showed  them  unto  him 
for  the  satisfaction  of  his  longing  heart  before  he  laid 
down  on  the  rocky  height  of  Nebo  to  die  in  silence  and 
alone.  It  means  much  that  the  infinite  God,  in  confer- 
ring a  last  and  especial  favor  upon  his  most  honored 
servant,  should  have  displayed  before  him  the  fair  sight 
of  a  laud  of  hills  and  valleys,  drinking  water  of  the 
rain  of  heaven  and  basking  beneath  the  smile  of  its 
Creator  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  year. 

The  hills  of  Palestine,  so  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of 
Moses,  and  the  last  sight  that  he  looked  upon  with 
enraptured  gaze  before  his  death,  are  but  the  type  of 
the  ten  thousand  hills  which  God  has  clothed  with 
beauty,  and  in  which  he  has  stored  up  precious  things 
from  of  old  for  man  throughout  all  the  earth.  The 
sacred  associations  of  Palestine  cannot  indeed  be 
repeated  in  other  lands.  But  the  hills  of  America  are 
as  truly  God's  work,  and  both  piety  and  patriotism 
conspire  to  make  us  look  upon  them  with  such  feelings 
as  moved  the  heart  of  Moses  when  gazing  upon  the 
promised  possessions  of  his  people  from  the  height  of 
Nebo. 

The  precious  things  of  the  lasting  hills — would  you 
know  how  rich,  how  various,  how  beautiful  they  are  ? 
Take  the  wings  of  the  morning  in  the  autumn  of  the 
year,  and  travel  in  the  flying  train,  in  any  direction 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  343 


over  the  rolling  expanse  of  our  hill  country,  till  the 
setting  sun  finds  you  farther  away  from  the  place  of 
starting  than  the  whole  length  of  the  land  that  Moses 
saw  from  Nebo ;  and  all  the  way  you  are  climbing  the 
slope  of  streams  whose  fountains  are  still  beyond  you 
when  the  stars  appear.  The  long  journey  of  the  day 
will  be  a  continued  panorama,  more  rich  and  varied 
in  beauty  than  any  that  the  great  masters  in  painting 
ever  spread  upon  the  canvas. 

In  that  one  day's  journey  God  will  show  you  a 
grander  prospect  than  he  showed  to  Moses  from  the  top 
of  Nebo.  If  you  look  upon  it  with  such  reverence  and 
gratitude  as  God's  great  works  should  ever  draw  forth 
from  the  heart,  it  will  be  to  you  a  day  of  worship  as 
sacred  as  that  which  you  offer  in  sanctuaries  made  by 
human  hands.  Hills  and  valleys,  fields  and  forests, 
rocks  and  streams,  villages  and  farm-houses  will  float 
by  in  the  brightness  of  the  sunlight  and  under  the 
shadows  of  clouds,  until  your  eye  is  weary  with  behold- 
ing and  the  mind  is  surfeited  with  beauty.  You  will 
see  the  slopes  of  the  hills  lifted  up  to  hang  the  flaming 
hues  of  the  forest  in  the  clearest  light;  the  waving 
lines  of  the  ridges  and  valleys  will  soften  the  transition 
from  one  view  to  another,  and  the  russet  hues  of  the 
harvest-fields  will  tone  down  the  picture  with  such  a 
delicate  blending  of  light  and  shade  as  we  see  when 
the  dawn  imperceptibly  brightens  into  day  or  the  twi- 
light deepens  into  night.  As  you  pass  swiftly  along, 
even  the  borders  of  the  fields  and  the  neglected  pas- 


344  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

ture-lands  look  like  flower-gardens,  bright  with  starry 
asters  and  golden-rods  and  sumacs  and  humble  shrubs, 
whose  foliage  seems  an  efflorescence  of  fire,  burning  yet 
unconsumed.  Farther  away  in  the  distance,  the  forests 
of  oak  and  maple,  of  birch  and  beech  and  evergreen 
pine  present,  in  harmonious  combination,  all  tints  that 
shine  in  the  rainbow,  subdued  and  beautified  by  the 
dreamy  haze  of  the  autumnal  air. 

This  varied  and  dazzling  beauty  is  one  of  the  pre- 
cious things  of  the  lasting  hills  which  God  has  given 
to  this  land  as  a  peculiar  blessing.  The  inheritance 
of  Ephraim  and  Manasseh  in  old  time  was  never 
clothed  with  such  gorgeous  colors  as  God  gives  to  our 
American  hills,  when  the  forests  flame  out  in  every 
leaf  and  the  autumn  winds  begin  their  mournful  song. 
You  have  only  to  recognize  the  Divine  Hand  in  all 
this  wilderness  of  beauty,  and  you  will  feel  that  a  day 
of  travel  among  the  hills  and  along  the  winding 
streams  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  is  like  the  march 
of  the  tribes  when  the  cloudy  pillar  of  God's  pres- 
ence went  before  them,  or  like  the  journeys  of  the 
patriarchs  when  they  met  angels  in  the  broad  noon 
or  saw  visions  of  Jehovah  in  the  dreams  of  the 
night. 

Blessed,  a  thousand  times  blessed,  be  the  name  of 
our  God,  because  he  has  made  this  world  so  beautiful 
that  the  hills  and  clouds  and  forests  of  earth  can  help  us 
conceive  the  more  glorious  beauty  of  that  land  where 
the  light  is  never  dim  and  the  living  never  die !  Take 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  345 

away  the  sin  and  the  sorrow,  the  suffering  and  the 
death  from  this  world,  and  we  should  have  enough  of 
beauty  and  riches  and  blessing  left  to  make  it  seem  our 
heaven.  But  now  that  sin  abounds  and  the  beauty 
fades,  and  even  the  good  must  die,  we  have  nothing 
left  but  to  look  for  another  and  a  better  country.  We 
should  therefore  take  everything  that  God  has  made 
for  us  here,  to  attract  the  eye  and  delight  the  mind,  as 
the  sign  of  something  richer  and  fairer  in  the  blessed 
and  final  home.  And  all  the  pleasure  we  derive  from 
the  contemplation  of  beauty  in  the  material  and  per- 
ishing world  should  make  us  long  more  earnestly  for 
the  perfect  and  everlasting  beauty  of  holiness. 

Among  the  precious  things  of  the  lasting  hills  we 
may  count  the  light  which  sheds  its  radiance  upon  us 
in  the  evening  hours,  and  the  warmth  which  cheers  our 
homes  when  icy  winter  reigns  through  all  the  frozen 
north.  The  veins  and  beds  of  coal  and  the  springs  of 
oil  which  make  our  dwellings  habitable,  and  keep  all 
the  fires  of  industry  burning,  were  prepared  in  far- 
distant  time  against  the  day  of  need  and  entrusted  to 
the  safe-keeping  of  the  lasting  hills.  Down  deep  in 
the  treasuries  of  the  ancient  hills  God  laid  up  of  old,  in 
black  and  solid  mass,  the  bright  effulgence  which  plays 
on  the  evening  circle  and  kindles  the  classic  page  for 
the  student's  eye  at  the  midnight  hour. 

In  long-gone  ages  God  made  the  mighty  forests 
grow.  He  poured  the  sunshine  upon  the  green  leaves 
that  every  branch  might  treasure  up  a  portion  of  em- 


346  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

bodied  light.  He  sent  forth  great  water-floods  to  sweep 
the  fallen  trunks  of  millions  of  trees  into  ravines  and 
valleys  between  the  hills.  He  covered  them  over  and 
pressed  them  down  with  masses  of  sand  and  earth.  He 
hardened  the  covering  into  stone  that  the  storehouse 
might  not  be  broken  open  till  the  time  of  need.  In 
the  process  of  ages  the  beneficent  and  divine  Builder 
set  his  own  hand  beneath  the  hills  and  heaved  up  the 
rocky  door.  He  opened  the  treasuries  of  darkness  and 
the  hidden  riches  of  secret  places,  where  light  and 
warmth  have  been  stored  away  in  solid  masses  among 
the  precious  things  of  the  lasting  hills.  Then  the 
voice  of  his  providence  said  to  man,  Behold  the  store- 
house which  thy  Father's  hand  hath  prepared  and  filled 
of  old  for  thee !  Enter  and  possess  thine  own.  And 
when  the  treasures  of  darkness  fill  thy  homes  and  sanc- 
tuaries with  light  by  night  and  warmth  in  winter,  then 
offer  thanksgiving  to  Him  who  thought  of  thee  and 
provided  for  thy  wants  so  long  before  the  time  of  need 
came. 

Moses  promised  that  the  Lord  God  would  bring  the 
tribes  of  Israel  into  a  land  whose  stones  were  iron. 
Speaking  by  divine  inspiration,  he  recognized  the  min- 
eral treasures  of  the  earth  as  the  means  of  spiritual 
blessing  to  man.  And  the  coal  and  iron  are  among  the 
most  precious  things  which  God  hath  stored  up  for  us 
in  the  treasuries  of  the  hills.  More  precious  than  fine 
gold  arid  sparkling  gems  are  the  black  coal  and  rusty 
iron  that  grime  the  face  of  the  laborer  with  soot  and 


sweat. 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  347 


sweat,  and  leave  the  signs  of  toil  upon  every  hand  that 
touches  them.  They  keep  all  the  wheels  and  hammers 
of  industry  in  motion.  They  feed  the  hungry  and 
clothe  the  naked  and  comfort  the  afflicted.  They  build 
houses  for  the  homeless,  they  supply  occupation  for  the 
idle,  they  reward  the  industrious  for  their  labor.  They 
bridge  our  streams,  build  highways  for  travel,  trans- 
port men  and  merchandise  over  land  and  sea  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind  and  with  the  power  of  countless 
horses.  They  move  the  mightiest  masses  and  they 
finish  the  most  delicate  work.  They  hang  the  giddy 
track  for  the  rushing  train  on  the  face  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  they  stretch  the  connecting  thread  under  all 
the  waters  of  the  great  deep  from  continent  to  conti- 
nent. They  print  our  Bibles,  give  voice  and  melody 
to  our  songs  of  praise  and  supply  every  comfort  and 
convenience  of  public  worship.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
treasures  of  coal  and  iron  stored  up  of  old  by  God's 
hand  in  the  ancient  hills,  the  grand  march  of  science 
and  social  improvement,  of  civilization  and  Christian- 
ity, would  be  arrested,  and  the  nations  would  go  back 
to  a  state  of  utter  ignorance  and  barbarism. 

Moses  promised  that  the  Lord  God  would  bring  the 
tribes  of  Israel  to  a  land  of  brooks  of  water,  of  foun- 
tains and  depths  that  spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills. 
He  counted  it  a  reason  for  national  gratitude,  and  he 
solemnly  charged  them  to  keep  it  as  such  in  their 
hearts,  that  living  streams  should  break  forth  and  gush- 
ing rivulets  should  sing  down  the  terraced  slopes  of 


348  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

their  hillsides  and  along  the  winding  course  of  their 
valleys. 

So  rich  are  our  own  hills  with  springs  and  foun- 
tains that  we  forget  the  Hand  that  pours  them  forth. 
Let  our  land  be  parched  with  drought  for  a  single 
summer,  and  all  hearts  would  be  lifted  in  one  agonizing 
prayer  for  God  to  touch  the  hills  and  make  them  smoke 
with  rain-clouds,  and  send  forth  springs  into  the  val- 
leys. And  it  is  good  for  us  always  to  remember  how 
much  we  are  indebted  to  the  precious  things  of  the 
lasting  hills  for  the  varied  hues  and  forms  that  make 
the  world  beautiful,  for  the  daily  bread  which  we  ask 
of  God  to  sustain  life,  for  the  strength  that  nerves  our 
arms  and  for  the  hope  and  courage  that  inspire  our 
hearts.  It  was  the  resolve  of  ancient  faith  in  the  time 
of  trouble, "  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills,  from 
whence  cometh  my  help."  And  then,  as  if  the  Maker 
of  the  hills  had  given  them  for  the  defence  and  conso- 
lation of  the  afflicted,  the  inspired  prayer  makes  their 
help  the  same  as  his :  "  My  help  cometh  from  the  Lord, 
which  made  heaven  and  earth." 

In  the  lowest  depths  of  affliction  and  sorrow  we  have 
only  to  look  away  to  the  everlasting  heights  of  God's 
mercy  and  power,  and  his  hand  will  be  put  forth  to  lift 
us  up.  When  we  want  light  or  guidance,  we  must  look 
up.  The  sailor  finds  his  way  on  the  sea  by  watching 
the  stars.  The  benighted  traveler,  who  longs  for  the 
day,  looks  for  the  bright  herald  of  the  dawn  on  the  hill- 
tops while  the  skies  are  still  dark.  The  Alpine  hunter, 


THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS.  349 

whose  head  grows  giddy  in  climbing  mountain  heights, 
looks  up  and  is  calm. 

If  you  keep  your  eye  always  on  the  earth,  you  will 
walk  in  darkness  and  stumble  at  every  step.  Look  up 
to  heaven  and  God,  and  you  will  find  your  way  safely 
wherever  duty  calls  you  to  go.  If  you  lay  up  for  your- 
self treasures  only  on  earth,  you  will  be  poor  with  all 
your  gains.  If  you  lay  up  treasures  in  heaven,  you  will 
be  rich  with  all  your  losses.  If  you  look  only  to  man 
for  comfort  in  the  day  of  need,  you  will  be  helpless  and 
desolate  with  all  your  friends.  If  you  have  God  for 
your  Father,  you  can  hope  and  rejoice  though  every 
human  friend  should  forsake  you. 

These  earthly  and  perishable  things,  which  engage 
so  much  of  our  attention  now,  are  appointed  to  help 
us  lay  hold  on  things  heavenly  and  divine.  Man  is 
nothing  without  God ;  earth  is  nothing  without  heaven, 
Man  alone,  of  all  God's  works  in  this  world,  was  made 
to  walk  erect,  that  he  might  look  up.  Into  him  alone 
did  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  breathe  desires  and 
aspirations  that  overpass  the  boundaries  of  earth  and 
time.  If  you  would  be  true  to  your  own  immortal 
nature,  you  must  spend  this  life  of  earth  in  preparing 
for  a  higher  and  a  better ;  you  must  not  let  the  animal 
and  perishable  nature  subdue  and  enslave  the  spiritual 
and  immortal. 

Rich  and  great  and  beautiful  as  is  this  world,  it  is 
only  one  small  province  of  the  kingdom  which  our 
Father  would  give  us  for  our  inheritance  and  enjoy- 


350  THE  PRECIOUS  THINGS  OF  THE  HILLS. 

ment  beyond  the  river  of  death.  All  the  worth  and 
greatness  of  this  life  are  derived  from  its  connection 
with  the  endless  life  to  come.  The  precious  things  of 
the  lasting  hills  shall  perish,  the  mountains  decay 
with  years.  The  mightiest  structures  of  man's  art  shall 
pass  away  and  leave  not  a  wreck  behind.  But  the  soul 
that  lives  for  God  here,  shall  be  blessed  for  ever  with 
God  hereafter.  The  tree  of  life  shall  yield  all  its  fruits, 
the  hills  of  heaven  shall  pour  forth  all  their  fountains 
of  joy,  the  city  of  God  shall  fling  wide  the  golden  gates, 
the  harps  and  voices  of  innumerable  angels  shall  be 
lifted  up  in  songs  of  welcome  for  him  who  while  on 
earth  learns  to  look  up  for  help,  for  guidance  and  for 
hope.  As  the  rocks  of  the  shore  gird  the  sea,  as  the 
hills  and  mountains  are  round  about  the  valleys,  so 
shall  God's  everlasting  arm  surround  and  protect  the 
feeblest  soul  that  seeks  his  aid.  You  have  only  to  ask 
and  trust  his  help  in  life  and  in  death,  and  he  will  say 
to  you  in  the  sure  word  of  promise  and  of  prophecy : 
"  The  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  shall  be 
removed,  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart,  neither 
shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed,  saith  the 
Lord  that  hath  mercy  on  thee." 


gs  of  t|e 


Dostthw  know  the  balancings  of  the  clouds? — JOB  xxxvii.  16. 


THE   VOICE    OUT    OF    THE     CLOUDS 


XVII. 

THE   BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

| 

LOUDS  are  among  the  most  striking  appearances 
in  the  natural  world.  Whether  heralding  the 
dawn  with  beacons  of  flame  and  banners  of  gold, 
or  escorting  the  sun's  descending  car  with  armies 
of  light  and  sapphire  thrones ;  whether  clothing  the 
mountains  with  garments  of  beauty,  or  enriching  the 
landscape  with  flying  shadows;  whether  shading  the 
weary  from  the  noonday  heat,  refreshing  the  field  and 
the  garden  with  gentle  showers,  or  shaking  the  earth 
with  mighty  thunders ;  whether  moving  in  silent  and 
solitary  grandeur  along  the  blue  deep  of  the  sky,  or 
covering  the  whole  heavens  with  black  and  jagged 
masses,  torn  by  the  tempest  and  hurled  onward  like 
charging  hosts  in  the  shock  of  battle, — glorious  in  the 
morning,  grateful  at  noonday,  prophetic  of  the  dawn 
at  evening,  clouds  lend  a  charm  to  every  landscape, 
a  diversity  to  every  season  and  a  lesson  to  every 
thoughtful  mind.  No  earthly  scene  could  attract  us 
long  if  deprived  of  light  and  shade  from  the  changing 
clouds,  and  with  our  present  feelings  we  should  find  it 
hard  to  be  satisfied  with  heaven  itself  if  it  be  one 
unvaried,  cloudless  noon. 

W  353 


354  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

It  is  doubtless  for  this  reason  that  clouds  so  fre- 
quently form  a  part  of  the  symbolical  representations 
by  which  the  Creator  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
reveals  himself  to  man.  When  the  waters  of  the  Flood 
passed  away  from  the  earth,  and  God  covenanted  with 
every  living  creature  to  repeat  the  judgment  of  the 
Deluge  no  more  for  perpetual  generations,  he  pointed 
to  the  bow  in  the  cloud  for  the  seal  of  his  covenant, 
and  he  emblazoned  his  promise  in  the  seven-fold  colors 
of  the  showery  arch.  When  the  hosts  of  Israel  came 
out  of  Egypt,  and  began  their  march  to  the  Promised 
Land  through  the  waves  of  the  divided  sea,  the  Lord 
went  before  them  for  a  guide  and  a  defence  in  a  pillar 
of  cloud.  The  same  awful  symbol  of  Jehovah's  pres- 
ence was  a  light  to  his  people  and  darkness  to  their 
foes.  When  the  Lord  dame  down  upon  Mount  Sinai 
to  proclaim  his  fiery  law  amid  mighty  thunderings  and 
lightnings  and  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  exceeding  loud, 
he  veiled  his  presence  from  the  witnessing  tribes  in  a 
thick  cloud.  When  the  tabernacle  was  set  up  in  the 
wilderness,  and  God  would  give  a  token  of  his  willing- 
ness to  hear  the  prayer  of  the  penitent  and  to  dwell 
with  the  humble  and  contrite,  he  caused  a  cloud  to 
appear  between  the  cherubim  that  covered  the  mercy- 
seat  with  their  outspreading  wings,  and  he  spoke  with 
oracular  voices  from  that  awful  shadow. 

The  Psalmist,  in  describing  the  majesty  of  Jehovah 
who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  and  spread  out 
the  heavens  like  a  curtain,  says  that  he  maketh  th» 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  355 

clouds  his  chariot.  The  voice  which  proclaimed  the 
Son  of  God  on  the  Mount  of  the  Transfiguration  came 
out  from  the  cloud  which  covered  the  excellent  glory. 
When  the  great  work  of  man's  redemption  was  accom- 
plished, and  the  Conqueror  of  sin  and  death  ascended 
to  his  heavenly  throne  in  view  of  his  wondering  dis- 
ciples, a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight.  And 
in  the  last  great  day,  when  he  shall  return  for  judg 
ment,  and  shall  gather  all  nations  before  him,  and 
every  eye  shall  see  him,  he  shall  come  upon  the 
clouds. 

The  voices  of  the  mercy-seat  are  no  longer  heard  as 
of  old  from  the  awful  shadow  of  the  tabernacle.  The 
visible  presence  of  the  Son  of  God  no  longer  walks 
with  men  below.  And  yet  the  bow  of  promise  still 
spans  the  summer  cloud ;  the  chariots  of  Jehovah  still 
sweep  the  sky ;  the  heavens  are  covered  with  the  dust 
of  his  feet.  There  is  still  abundant  reason  why  we 
should  make  a  sacred  study  of  the  clouds. 

There  were  some  in  ancient  time  who  thought  it 
strange  that  they  could  not  find  out  the  ways  of  the 
Almighty  unto  perfection.  To  silence  such  presump- 
tion, he  put  the  question,  "  Dost  thou  know  the  bal- 
ancings of  the  clouds  ?"  He  referred  to  objects  which 
are  familiar  to  every  eye,  which  come  within  the 
range  of  every  day's  observation.  And  the  force  of 
the  rebuke  was  this :  If  you  cannot  explain  things  that 
are  so  common  and  apparently  so  simple,  why  need 
you  wonder  or  complain  that  you  cannot  understand 


356  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

the  plans  and  the  purposes  of  a  government  which 
embraces  all  beings  and  extends  through  everlasting 
ages? 

This  question  about  the  balancings  of  the  clouds  has 
now  been  before  the  world  more  than  three  thousand 
years.  Men  have  been  studying  and  growing  in 
knowledge  all  the  time.  But  nobody  has  yet  been 
found  able  to  answer  it  either  among  shepherds,  like 
Job,  who  are  as  familiar  with  clouds  as  with  their  flocks 
on  the  mountains,  or  among  philosophers,  who  study 
vapors  and  stormy  winds  in  laboratories  and  upon 
housetops.  The  latest  authority  among  men  of  science 
says  that  little  is  known  of  the  causes  which  balance 
the  clouds  in  the  air. 

They  are  formed  of  water,  and  water,  however 
minutely  divided  or  blown  into  bubbles,  is  always 
heavier  than  the  air.  And  yet  these  flying  fountains 
of  all  the  rivers  of  earth,  these  armed  and  thundering 
legions  of  the  storm,  that  beat  down  the  forests  with 
hail  and  bury  the  mountains  in  snow,  and  flood  the 
plains  with  water,  go  floating  over  us  at  vast  heights 
with  all  their  mighty  magazines  when  all  our  phil- 
osophy would  require  them  to  sink  to  the  earth.  Why 
they  do  not  come  down  at  once,  rending  the  barriers 
of  the  mountains  and  desolating  the  plains  with  an- 
other deluge,  nobody  knows.  It  is  a  sign  of  progress 
in  knowledge  that  men  have  discovered  their  ignor- 
ance. And  it  takes  a  wise  man  to  tell  us  in  what 
\  direction  our  ignorance  is  most  profound. 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  357 

The  writer  of  the  book  of  Job  must  have  been 
guided  by  something  higher  than  human  wisdom  to 
have  been  able  to  ask  in  his  day  the  one  question 
which  is  still  hardest  to  answer  about  the  clouds.  He 
might  have  asked  a  hundred  others  which  are  easy  for 
us,  but  which  nobody  could  answer  in  his  time.  He 
needed  divine  inspiration  to  ask  the  one  which  the 
world,  after  three  thousand  years  of  study,  still  finds 
the  hardest  to  answer.  And  this  is  not  by  accident, 
for  it  was  the  avowed  purpose  of  the  writer  to  show 
that  in  the  most  common  things  there  are  mysteries 
past  finding  out. 

And  this  most  ancient  book  of  Job  has  another 
question  about  the  clouds  which  our  modern  science 
finds  nearly  or  quite  as  hard  to  answer :  "  Can  any 
understand  the  spreadings  of  the  clouds  ?"  Look  up 
on  a  summer's  day  and  you  may  see  whole  square 
miles  of  sky  "  spread"  with  clouds,  ranged  like  harp- 
strings  in  parallel  bars,  or  scattered  in  handfuls  of  sea- 
foam,  that  preserve  a  definite  form  and  fly  in  flocks 
like  migratory  birds,  yet  never  interfering  with  each 
other. 

Now  philosophers  tell  us  that  clouds  are  formed 
when  cold  air  comes  into  contact  with  warmer  and 
condenses  the  moisture  into  vapor.  The  cloud  shows 
where  the  cold  is  diffusing  itself  through  the  warm  air 
and  making  its  moisture  visible.  But  who  can  tell  me 
how  cold  or  heat  oan  range  itself  in  orderly  ranks  in 
the  thin  air,  and  go  marching  above  the  mountains  for 


358  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

many  a  league  across  the  sky,  like  battalions  of  armed 
men  that  never  break  their  ranks,  never  forsake  the 
standard  under  which  they  are  marshaled  ?  Can  any- 
body understand  how  a  million  separate  breaths  of 
cold  or  warm  air  can  be  kept  floating  for  miles  at  vast 
heights  so  as  not  to  mingle  with  each  other,  as  we 
have  all  seen  the  sky  flecked  with  millions  of  clouds 
no  bigger  than  the  white  wing  of  a  sea  bird,  and  every 
curled  and  twisted  flake  of  mist  moving  upon  its  own 
track?  Who  can  tell  me  how  cold  can  rise  up  in 
towers  and  pinnacles  and  thrones,  or  stand  like  a  wall 
of  adamant  with  battlements  of  fire  and  foundations  in 
the  darkness,  as  we  have  all  seen  clouds  hang  for  hours 
motionless  in  the  western  sky  or  gather  in  solid  and 
shining  legions  around  the  setting  sun. 

These  and  many  such  questions  about  the  clouds 
nobody  can  answer.  And  they  are  asked  by  divine 
inspiration  not  simply  to  perplex  and  confound  us,  but 
to  show  that  in  the  common  things  of  daily  life  there 
are  mysteries  past  finding  out,  and  that  much  more 
may  we  expect  that  the  judgments  and  purposes  of  the 
infinite  God  will  be  unsearchable.  He  must  come  to 
us,  if  he  reveals  himself  at  all,  in  the  thick  cloud  of 
mystery;  he  must  conceal  more  of  himself  than  he 
makes  known.  If  we  could  fully  understand  his  ways, 
l\re  could  not  believe  him  to  be  the  infinite  God.  He 
must  be  incomprehensible  in  wisdom  and  power  and 
love,  or  we  should  not  dare  to  trust  him  with  the  in- 
finite interests  of  our  souls  for  ever  and  ever. 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  359 

It  is  the  infinite  folly  of  the  skeptic  to  refuse  to  be- 
lieve because  he  cannot  comprehend  the  infinite. 
Every  faculty  of  his  mind,  every  organ  of  his  body, 
every  cloud  in  the  sky,  every  particle  of  dust  beneath  his 
feet,  contains  mysteries  which  no  human  science  by  con- 
tinued searching  can  ever  find  out.  Our  own  existence 
and  faculties  and  destiny  are  unfathomable  mysteries. 
But  they  are  all  most  real  and  undeniable  facts.  God's 
existence  and  character  and  requirements  are  still 
greater  mysteries,  but  they  are  all  still  greater  and 
more  awful  facts.  And  it  is  greater  folly  to  deny  or 
to  neglect  our  responsibility  to  God  because  we  cannot 
understand  his  ways,  than  it  would  be  to  deny  our 
own  existence  because  we  cannot  understand  how  we 
came  into  being  or  in  what  way  our  life  is  preserved. 

It  is  by  the  dark  and  awful  lesson  of  mystery  that 
God  would  educate  us  all  to  the  highest  exercise  of 
faith.  He  shows  us  the  unsearchableness  of  his  wis- 
dom and  power  in  the  drop  of  rain,  in  the  flake  of 
snow,  in  the  blade  of  grass,  in  all  the  little  and  common 
things  around  us,  in  order  that  he  may  help  us  to  be- 
lieve that  he  is  everywhere,  and  that  nothing  is  too 
small  to  receive  his  attention.  He  impresses  us  more 
deeply  by  what  he  does  not  and  cannot  make  known 
of  himself  than  by  all  that  our  limited  understanding 
can  comprehend. 

If  any  increase  of  light,  any  enlargement  of  our 
faculties,  should  ever  satisfy  us  that  we  had  seen  all 
that  there  is  of  God,  and  learned  all  he  has  done  or 


360  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

can  do,  we  could  no  longer  give  him  the  homage  of 
our  hearts.  We  should  feel  like  searching  the  universe 
to  its  utmost  boundary  to  find  one  whom  we  could  not 
comprehend,  that  we  might  worship  him.  Let  thia 
then  be  our  answer  to  those  who  complain  that  the 
doctrines  of  divine  revelation  are  mysterious  and  in- 
comprehensible. They  must  be  so,  or  they  could  not 
command  our  faith,  they  could  not  satisfy  the  longings 
of  our  souls  that  can  never  die.  They  must  be  un- 
searchable, or  they  cannot  hold  the  supremacy  in  minds 
that  can  never  cease  to  inquire,  to  think  and  to  learn. 

There  is  a  cloud  of  mourning  as  well  as  of  mystery. 
To  those  who  will  receive  it,  the  mystery  is  the  fore- 
runner of  light  and  the  mourning  is  the  messenger 
of  joy.  The  Divine  Comforter  often  sends  the  cloud 
of  mourning  as  the  sign  of  his  coming.  He  promises 
especial  blessing  to  those  that  mourn.  If  it  were  not 
so,  it  would  be  our  sad  lot  to  live  without  peace  and  to 
die  without  hope.  For  it  is  appointed  unto  man  to 
mourn,  and  if  there  be  no  bow  of  promise  in  the  cloud, 
the  journey  of  life  must  be  pursued  in  darkness  and 
end  in  despair. 

The  cloud  of  mourning  casts  its  shadow  upon  every 
path.  It  bursts  with  appalling  blackness  into  the 
brightest  sky,  and  it  steals,  with  slow  and  silent  ap- 
proach, upon  the  fairest  landscape.  All  languages  are 
burdened  with  words  of  lamentation  over  the  changing 
and  transitory  state  of  man.  The  great  and  the  mighty 
are  hurled  from  the  high  places  of  power  as  meteors 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  361 

are  Lurled  from  the  height  of  heaven,  as  the  avalanche 
falls  from  its  mountain  home.  The  strong  man,  in  the 
fullness  of  his  strength  and  activity,  feels  a  twinge  of 
pain  shoot  across  his  brow  or  a  shadow  flit  before  his 
vision,  and  it  is  the  summons  for  him  to  go  home  and 
die.  To-day  the  little  child  shouts  and  sings  for  joy 
till  the  house  rings  with  the  music  of  his  voice.  At 
midnight  there  is  a  light  in  his  chamber  and  anxious 
watchers  are  bending  over  his  bed.  To-morrow  in  the 
same  room  a  broken-hearted  mother  bows  down  weep- 
ing and  mourning  beside  a  still,  cold  form  that  is  stiff- 
ened and  straightened  for  the  grave.  With  many,  life 
is  a  long  conflict  of  pain  and  disappointment,  hope  is  a 
bright  cloud  that  brings  no  rain,  joy  is  a  fountain  that 
springs  up  in  the  burning  desert,  but  recedes  when  the 
thirsty  approach  to  drink.  In  every  heart  there  is 
some  secret  woe,  in  every  house  there  is  some  hidden 
horror,  in  every  cup  of  earthly  pleasure  there  is  bitter- 
ness, upon  every  path  the  cloud  of  mourning  casts  its 
shadow. 

The  eloquent  and  the  mighty  climb  to  the  heights 
of  fame  and  find  them  cold.  The  friend  of  the  poor 
and  the  emancipator  of  millions  falls  by  the  hand  of 
an  assassin.  Men  of  genius  enrich  the  world  with  their 
inventions  and  themselves  die  poor.  Men  of  wealth 
build  splendid  mansions  and  never  inhabit  them.  Re- 
formers preach  righteousness  and  humanity,  and  they 
are  hissed  as  fanatics  and  denounced  as  disturbers  of 
the  public  peace.  The  clowns  and  the  comedians  who 


362  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

live  by  making  others  laugh  are  themselves  consumed 
with  secret  sorrow.  The  devotees  of  pleasure,  who 
make  life  a  jest  and  death  a  shadow,  are  themselves  the 
saddest  creatures  in  the  world. 

You  may  plant  the  rose  in  your  sunniest  window 
and  shelter  it  from  every  blast,  but  the  thorn  will 
appear  before  the  bud,  and  the  worm  may  hide  itself 
in  the  first  and  fairest  blossom.  You  may  toil  for  long 
and  weary  years  to  reach  some  coveted  position,  and 
when  it  is  gained  only  wish  yourself  back  where  you 
began,  that  you  might  make  a  different  choice ;  you 
may  groan  under  the  burdens  which  you  are  now  bear- 
ing, and  yet  find  yourself  no  happier  when  they  are 
removed.  You  may  think  that  had  it  not  been  for  one 
great  loss  or  disappointment  you  would  be  to-day  en- 
tirely content  with  your  condition,  when  it  may  have 
been  that  loss  alone  which  saved  you  from  utter  ruin. 
You  may  search  the  world  around,  but  you  will  find 
no  path  on  which  the  cloud  of  trouble  and  sorrow 
never  casts  its  shadow;  you  will  enter  no  home  which 
may  not  at  any  time  be  made  the  house  of  mourning ; 
you  will  climb  no  height  so  lofty  and  serene  as  never 
to  be  beaten  by  storms  or  veiled  in  darkness.  Such  is 
man's  lot  in  this  world ;  and  in  all  its  changes  he  can 
find  no  rest,  in  all  its  sorrows  no  sufficient  consolation, 
so  long  as  he  pictures  his  brightest  prospects  in  the 
fading  clouds,  and  builds  his  most  substantial  struc- 
tures upon  foundations  that  the  storm  may  sweep  away. 
Would  you  know  how  much  reliance  to  place  upon  the 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  363 

most  cherished  expectations  of  earthly  good  ?  Look 
up  to  the  vanishing  cloud  and  see.  Would  you  know 
whether  your  present  plan  for  gain  or  ease  or  pleasure 
will  succeed  ?  Tell  me  whether  the  sky  will  be  clear 
or  cloudy  to-morrow,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  lights 
and  shadows  will  appear  on  the  horizon  of  your  earthly 
hopes. 

And  yet  there  is  something  for  us  to  rely  upon  more 
sure  and  permanent  than  the  changing  aspects  of  the 
sky.  There  is  a  cloud  of  mercy  which  pours  down 
blessing  upon  the  parched  waste  of  the  most  desolate 
heart,  and  there  is  a  cloud  of  light  that  leads  the  way 
to  glory  and  to  God.  Clouds  are,  in  some  sense,  me- 
diators between  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  They  are 
material  in  substance,  rising  up  from  the  deep  and 
carrying  heavy  burdens  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
And  so  they  belong  to  the  earth.  They  are  ethereal 
in  lightness,  standing  without  any  visible  support  and 
moving  without  any  apparent  cause,  and  so  belong  to 
the  heavens.  They  are  stored  with  showers  that  fer- 
tilize the  earth  and  sustain  life,  and  they  are  charged 
with  lightnings  that  blast  and  destroy.  They  shine  in 
the  flush  of  the  dawn  like  islands  of  flame  in  a  sea  of 
fire,  and  they  blacken  the  night  with  darkness  that 
may  be  felt.  They  cover  the  traveler  with  a  cooling 
screen  from  the  burning  sun  like  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land,  and  they  shake  the  mountains 
with  thunders  of  wrath.  They  sail  in  serene  and 
gentle  majesty  like  winged  messengers  of  heaven 


364  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS. 

along  the  azure  deep,  and  they  rush  through  the  howl- 
ing heavens  like  billows  from  the  pit  of  darkness, 
charged  with  angry  lightnings  and  stored  with  maga- 
zines of  thunderbolts. 

And  so  the  same  cloud  which  pours  down  blessings 
upon  one,  breaks  in  tempest  and  affliction  upon  another. 
We  must  indeed  all  in  this  present  state  walk  under  a 
cloud.  But  every  one  is  permitted  to  choose  whether 
it  shall  be  big  with  mercy  or  black  with  wrath.  There 
is  no  judgment  so  awful  as  that  which  is  inflicted  for 
the  abuse  of  mercy.  There  is  no  darkness  so  deep  as 
that  which  follows  the  rejection  of  light. 
h  The  cloud  of  mercy  is  hovering  near  in  the  darkest 
hour.  We  have  only  to  desire  its  approach  and  it  will 
cover  us  with  glory  and  salvation.  God's  acts  and 
thoughts  of  kindness  are  as  numerous  as  the  drops  of 
rain.  And  it  takes  them  all  to  make  the  cloud  of 
mercy  by  which  the  humble  and  trusting  are  refreshed, 
protected  and  guided  in  the  way  of  peace.  Our  sins 
cannot  be  counted  for  number.  And  yet  we  have  only 
to  ask  and  God  will  blot  them  all  out,  as  the  countless 
drops  of  the  morning  cloud  melt  into  clear  air  before 
the  rising  sun.  The  mercy  of  the  everlasting  God  is 
as  mysterious  and  incomprehensible  as  his  might.  We 
can  have  little  idea  of  the  power  which  could  speak  the 
earth  into  existence,  with  all  its  oceans  and  mountains 
and  plains  and  living  creatures.  We  are  appalled  by 
the  bare  thought  of  that  omnipotence  which  could 
kindle  the  quenchless  fires  of  the  sun  and  the  stars  with 


THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.  365 

a  breath,  and  strew  the  immensities  of  space  with  count- 
less millions  of  worlds.  But  we  can  no  more  compre- 
hend the  greatness  of  the  mercy  which  puts  out  the 
fires  of  remorse  in  the  guilty  soul,  writes  the  names  of 
the  prisoners  of  death  in  the  book  of  life,  raises  up  the 
fallen  children  of  men  to  sing  with  the  seraphim,  to 
associate  with  archangels,  to  make  known  the  exceeding 
riches  of  the  divine  love  to  the  principalities  and  powers 
of  heaven  for  evermore. 

That  mercy  surrounds  us  every  moment  like  a  thick 
cloud,  dropping  down  the  blessed  rain  upon  the  waste 
places  of  our  hearts.     Out  of  the  cloud  come  voices  of 
invitation,  of  entreaty  and  of  command,  directing  us  to 
the  Lamb  of  God,  and  saying,  "  This  is  my  beloved 
Son,  hear  ye  him."     The  mercy  of  the  everlasting  God, 
dark  only  from  excess  of  light,  builds  a  pathway  01 
glory  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  gives  us  angel  guides 
to  help  us  climb  the  shining  steep,  that  we  may  reach 
a  home  where  the  cloud  of  mystery  melts  into  light 
and  the   cloud   of   sorrow   dissolves    in  song.     That 
ladder,  more  glorious  than  the  one  seen  in  the  dream 
of  the  patriarch  at  Bethel,  is  let  down  into  every  man's 
home,  into  every  man's  path,  into  every  man's  place 
of  business,   toil   and  pleasure.     And  a  voice  from 
above  cries  continually  to  the  weary  and  wandering 
and  troubled   children   of  men,  "Come  up   hither." 
Through  all  the  clouds  of  sorrow,  ignorance  and  per- 
plexity, faith  can  see  the  redeemed  of  earth  walking 
upon  the  shining  battlements  of  heaven  and  longing 


366  THE  BALANCINGS  OF  THE  CLOUDS.. 

to  welcome  all  who  are  now  wandering  in  darkness  to 
the  land  where  there  is  no  night. 

God  has  written  the  transitoriness  of  all  earthly 
things  upon  the  clouds,  that  every  eye  may  see  it.  He 
has  given  them  beauty  and  made  them  a  blessing,  that 
they  may  the  better  represent  things  which  charm  for 
a  time  and  disappoint  in  the  end.  When  you  are 
tempted  to  set  your  heart  on  earthly  things,  look  up 
to  the  changing  clouds  and  see  how  soon  your  posses- 
sions will  pass  away.  God  has  clothed  the  clouds  of 
the  morning  and  the  evening  with  evanescent  beauty, 
that  he  may  awaken  in  our  hearts  a  longing  for  the 
land  where  the  glory  of  his  presence  shall  be  an  ever- 
lasting light. 


r's  Cototant  of  fyt  §aj»  atto  |tigjt. 


Thus  saith  the  Lord:  If  ye  can  break  tny  covenant  of  the  day  and  my 
covenant  of  the  night,  and  that  there  should  not  be  day  and  night  in  their 
season,  then  will  I  cast  away  the  seed  of  Jacob.— ]E.R.  xxxiii.  20,  26. 


XVIII. 

GOD'S   COVENANT   OF  THE   DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

HE  works  and  the  word  of  God  are  the  two  doors 
that  lead  into  the  one  temple  of  truth.  Both 
stand  open  day  and  night,  inviting  all  to  enter. 
Over  both  are  written  in  golden  letters  the 
divine  words,  "  Seek  and  ye  shall  find,  knock  and  it 
shall  be  opened  unto  you."  Both  send  forth  beams 
of  the  excellent  glory  which  is  enthroned  within,  and 
upon  the  full  brightness  of  which  no  mortal  eye  can 
gaze.  The  separate  streams  of  light  which  issue  from 
the  open  portals  of  the  one  temple  unite  again  harmo- 
niously in  the  same  beam,  and  thus  prove  the  fact  and 
proclaim  the  glory  of  their  common  source.  The  like- 
ness of  the  one  great  Creator  delineated  by  light  drawn 
from  his  works  and  his  word  is  the  same.  It  must  be 
a  darkened  and  perverted  heart  which  will  not  receive 
the  light  of  Nature  and  the  light  of  Revelation  as 
coming  from  the  same  source,  teaching  the  same  truth 
and  always  agreeing  with  each  other.  The  theologian 
who  is  afraid  to  receive  the  revelation  of  God  in  his 
works  is  as  blind  as  the  philosopher  who  shuts  his  eye 
to  the  clearer  revelation  of  God  in  his  word. 

X  360 


370      GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

The  Almighty  Father  is  ever  speaking  to  us  by  all 
the  ordinances  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  We 
have  only  to  listen  with  a  tender  heart  and  a  teachable 
mind,  and  we  shall  hear  our  Father's  voice  sounding 
forth  in  music  and  in  mercy  through  all  the  course  of 
the  rolling  year.  The  inspired  Psalmist  describes  the 
several  seasons  as  moving  in  orderly  procession  at  the 
divine  command,  and  the  whole  year  as  crowned  in 
the  triumph  of  grace  and  completeness  by  the  Divine 
Hand. 

The  crown  is  the  symbol  of  glory  and  the  seal  of 
power  among  the  honored  and  the  mighty  of  the  earth. 
In  common  language  it  is  the  sign  of  completeness  in 
structure  and  of  success  in  action.  The  dome  crowns 
the  temple,  the  capital  crowns  the  column,  success 
crowns  the  well-ordered  enterprise.  The  crown  of  the 
year  is  the  glory  of  the  divine  goodness,  which  shines 
through  all  its  course  and  bursts  forth  with  the  splen- 
dors of  autumnal  beauty  and  abundance  at  its  close. 
The  goodness  that  crowns  the  year  bestows  every  line 
of  beauty  that  adorns  the  landscape,  every  gift  of 
plenty  that  fills  the  storehouse,  every  ray  of  light  that 
gladdens  the  pathway  of  life.  To  the  grateful  heart 
every  year  is  burdened  with  blessing  and  every  season 
has  its  song. 

We  hear  the  voice  of  the  Almighty  in  the  roar  of 
the  winter's  storm,  and  the  earth  is  bound  in  fetters  of 
ice  at  his  command.  He  comes  forth  in  the  glory  and 
the  gladness  of  the  blossoming  spring,  and  bursting 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT.      371 

flowers  offer  the  incense  of  perfume,  and  the  strong 
sons  of  the  forest  put  on  new  robes  to  welcome  their 
King.  He  pours  the  flood  of  exuberant  life  through 
all  the  growing  forms  and  living  tribes  of  Nature  with 
the  advancing  summer,  and  everything  that  hath 
breath  lends  a  voice  to  praise  him.  He  crowns  the 
year  with  goodness,  and  golden  harvests  bend  in 
homage  to  the  sire  of  the  seasons,  and  the  forests  are 
all  aflame  with  the  glory  of  the  coronation.  Thus  the 
Almighty  Father  maintains  the  beneficent  order  of  the 
seasons  in  their  fore-appointed  round.  He  sends  each 
with  the  promise  of  good,  and  in  departing  all  leave 
their  blessing  behind.  The  mountains  smoke  with 
gathered  clouds  beneath  the  touch  of  his  hand,  and  the 
heavens  pour  down  rain.  The  flowers  blossom  and 
harvests  wave  and  laughing  streams  sing  on  their  way 
to  the  sea. 

This  divine  constancy  in  the  established  order  of 
Nature  is  one  of  the  clearest  and  loudest  voices  with 
which  God  speaks  to  us  in  his  works.  It  is  one  which 
the  deaf  can  hear  and  the  dull  can  understand.  The 
inspired  prophet  in  ancient  time  was  instructed  to  ad- 
duce the  constancy  of  the  succession  of  day  and  night  to 
confirm  our  faith  in  the  stability  of  God's  revealed  word. 
Astronomers  tell  us  with  what  exactness  the  covenant 
of  the  day  and  the  night  has  been  kept  through  the 
long  succession  of  ages.  And  this  is  the  more  worthy 
of  our  reverent  and  thoughtful  study  because  it  is  the 
covenant  of  order  and  harmony  which  binds  the  season* 


372       QOD'S   COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

in  their  course  and  directs  the  revolution  of  all  worlds 
in  their  orbits. 

The  vast  globe  of  the  earth  swings  in  empty  space 
with  no  support  save  the  upholding  word  of  the 
Almighty  God.  It  flies  in  its  orbit  a  thousand  times 
faster  than  the  swiftest  railroad  train.  It  rolls  upon 
its  axis  so  swift  that  a  point  on  the  surface  at  the 
equator  moves  as  far  as  from  Boston  to  St.  Louis  in  a 
single  hour.  It  is  this  rolling  of  the  earth  on  its  axis 
that  brings  the  day  and  the  night.  And  the  revolution 
is  completed  in  absolutely  the  same  time  from  age  to 
age.  The  greatest  astronomers  the  world  has  ever  seen, 
Laplace  and  Arago  and  Herschel  and  Madler,  skeptic 
and  Christian  alike,  solemnly  declare  that  the  sidereal 
day  has  not  varied  in  three  thousand  years  the  hun- 
dredth part  of  a  second.  If  in  ninety  generations  of 
men  the  day  had  grown  longer  or  shorter  by  the  hun- 
dredth part  of  the  time  that  it  takes  the  heart  to  beat 
once,  astronomers  could  detect  the  change,  and  the 
covenant  of  the  day  and  the  night  would  be  broken. 
But  instruments  that  can  measure  the  eighty-thousandth 
part  of  a  second  in  space,  and  observations  that  have 
been  continued  three  thousand  years  of  time,  can  dis- 
cover no  variation. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  move  my  hand  a  single 
yard  or  to  walk  the  length  of  my  room  with  a  uniform 
motion.  The  inventive  genius  of  man  has  never  been 
able  to  make  a  wheel  perform  one  revolution  with  per- 
fect uniformity.  The  unseen  hand  of  the  Almighty 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT.       373 

has  be^n  turning  the  vast  globe  of  the  earth  for  three 
thousand  years,  and  men  have  been  watching  the  revo- 
lutions with  the  nicest  scrutiny  till  they  have  counted 
more  than  a  million,  and  yet  in  all  that  time  they  have 
not  detected  the  hundredth  part  of  a  second  of  irregu- 
larity. Every  successive  generation  of  observers  finds 
the  great  earth-wheel  rolling  at  the  same  rate,  com- 
pleting a  revolution  in  the  same  time. 

The  astronomer  sits  in  his  lonely  tower  and  looks 
out  upon  the  evening  star.  He  remembers  that  in  the 
tables  of  his  sublime  and  mysterious  science  it  was 
written  by  another  hand  a  hundred  years  before  that 
on  that  evening,  at  a  particular  moment,  a  small, 
round,  dark  spot  would  appear  upon  the  edge  of  that 
planet,  pass  slowly  across  the  face  of  it  and  disappear. 
He  turns  the  great  glassy  eye  of  his  telescope  toward 
that  bright  orb,  brings  it  to  the  centre  of  his  field  of 
view,  clamps  the  clock-work  apparatus  to  hold  it  there, 
and  then  waits  for  the  hour,  the  minute,  the  second  to 
come. 

The  heavens  are  calm  and  clear.  The  belted  planet 
on  which  the  eye  of  the  telescope  is  fixed  is  four  hun- 
dred millions  of  miles  away  in  the  pathless  void,  and 
beyond  the  fields  of  space  are  gemmed  with  countless 
worlds.  All  are  upheld  by  one  Infinite  Mind.  All 
are  guided  by  one  Almighty  Hand.  All  are  resplen- 
dent with  the  glory  of  one  Supreme  Creator.  If  he 
should  forget  for  one  instant  in  a  hundred  years  to 
roU  the  earth  upon  its  axis  or  to  wheel  the  planets  in 


374       GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAT  AND  NIGHT. 

their  orbits,  that  astronomer  would  look  in  vain  for 
the  spot  to  appear  on  the  face  of  the  evening  star. 

But  no :  punctual  to  the  instant  of  time,  it  touches 
the  edge  of  the  planet,  advances  and  passes  across  the 
disk,  and  so  proves  that  God's  covenant  of  the  day  and 
night  remains  unbroken.  The  Hand  that  holds  the 
firmament  of  stars  is  not  weary.  The  Mind  that 
marks  the  course  for  millions  of  worlds  can  never  for- 
get, is  never  confused.  No  matter  how  vast  the  ex- 
tent, how  various  the  order,  how  complex  and  mighty 
the  forces  of  orbs  and  systems  and  universes  in  exist- 
ence, God  governs  them  all  with  infinite  ease.  He 
will  not  suffer  the  day-spring  to  run  before  or  fall  be- 
hind its  time  the  hundredth  part  of  a  second  in  a 
thousand  years. 

Should  God  forget  his  covenant  of  the  day  and  the 
night  so  far  as  to  increase  or  diminish  in  the  least  the 
length  of  time  in  which  the  great  earth-wheel  turns  on 
its  axle,  it  would  derange  and  in  the  end  destroy  the 
whole  kingdom  of  Nature.  The  temperatures  of  the 
different  zones  would  be  changed,  and  all  animal  and 
vegetable  life  would  die.  The  waters  would  be  shaken 
out  of  the  basin  of  the  sea,  and  the  dry  land  would  be 
swept  over  with  a  universal  deluge.  It  is  only  because 
the  unseen  hand  of  the  Almighty  turns  the  axle  of 
the  earth  with  perfect  uniformity  from  age  to  age 
beneath  our  feet,  that  we  are  able  to  walk  our  streets 
by  day  or  sleep  in  our  houses  by  night. 

The  perfect  uniformity  with  which  God  keeps  his 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT.      375 

covenant  of  the  day  and  the  night  ensures  order  and 
harmony  in  the  whole  kingdom  of  Nature.  The  flowers 
bloom,  the  rain  falls,  the  harvest  ripens,  the  seasons 
come  and  go  in  their  perfect  and  fore-appointed  suc- 
cession, because  God  has  caused  the  day-spring  to 
know  its  place  and  the  sun  its  time  of  going  down. 

The  vegetable  kingdom  has  no  power  in  itself  to 
maintain  its  character  or  to  continue  its  species.  And 
yet  the  continued  and  conscious  exercise  of  almighty 
power  regulates  its  growth  by  established  laws,  so  that 
the  lapse  of  centuries  has  wrought  no  change.  The 
kernel  of  Egyptian  wheat,  which  was  buried  with  the 
dead  in  the  days  of  Moses,  three  thousand  and  three 
hundred  years  ago,  may  be  brought  forth  and  planted 
to-day  beside  other  kernels  which  have  been  propa- 
gated through  three  thousand  sowings  and  reapings, 
and  the  leaf  and  stalk  and  grain  produced  by  the  two 
will  be  precisely  the  same.  The  germ  of  life  which 
has  rested  for  thirty-three  centuries  in  the  tomb,  and 
the  one  which  has  passed  through  the  process  of  burial 
and  resurrection  three  thousand  times,  still  have  the 
same  nature  and  obey  the  same  law. 

The  solitary  palm  which  waves  its  drooping  branches 
over  the  hallowed  dust  of  fallen  Jerusalem  has  the 
same  leaf  as  the  branches  that  were  strewn  in  the  path 
of  Jesus  when  he  beheld  the  city  from  the  height  of 
Olivet  and  wept  over  its  impending  doom.  The  giant 
cedars  that  stand  alone  upon  the  mountain  as  mournful 
monuments  of  the  lost  glories  of  Lebanon,  are  the  same 


376       GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

in  leaf  and  branch  as  those  which  fell  before  the  hewers 
of  Solomon  and  were  carried  to  Jerusalem  for  the 
building  of  the  first  temple.  The  pale  primrose  that 
heralds  the  approach  of  spring,  and  the  brilliant  olean- 
der that  loads  the  air  with  its  perfume  and  lines  the 
water-courses  of  Palestine  with  its  blazing  efflorescence, 
have  the  same  tint,  diffuse  the  same  odor  as  those 
which  bloomed  a  hundred  generations  ago. 

The  conditions  of  growth  and  cultivation,  the  pro- 
perties and  uses  of  every  production  in  the  whole 
vegetable  kingdom  are  the  same  from  age  to  age. 
The  juice  of  the  plant  which  was  a  poison  to  the  first 
human  pair  on  the  earth  is  a  poison  now.  The  fruit 
that  was  pleasant  to  the  taste  and  that  sustained  life  in 
Paradise  is  pleasant  and  healthful  now.  The  discov- 
eries that  were  made  in  the  most  distant  age  concerning 
the  habits  of  plants,  the  properties  of  the  soil,  the 
methods  of  cultivation,  may  be  acted  upon  with  safety 
and  profit  to-day.  Whatever  we  may  learn  concerning 
the  best  means  of  securing  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  we 
may  transmit  to  others  with  the  assurance  that  it  will 
be  useful  and  applicable  down  to  the  last  generation 
of  men  that  shall  sow  the  field  and  reap  the  harvest. 

God  has  made  a  covenant  of  the  day  and  of  the 
night,  that  the  laws  of  growth  and  decay  and  the  sea- 
sons of  sowing  and  reaping  shall  remain  unchanged  as 
long  as  the  earth  shall  stand.  He  points  us  to  the  con- 
stancy with  which  he  keeps  his  covenant  of  the  day 
and  of  the  night,  that  we  may  know  how  sacredly  he 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT.       377 

will  keep  his  covenant  of  promise  with  those  who  trust 
his  word.  The  most  exact  science  of  modern  times, 
and  a  series  of  observations  continued  through  three 
thousand  years  can  detect  no  deviation  from  the  meas- 
ure of  the  day  and  the  night.  The  most  severe  and 
accurate  criticism  and  the  most  venturesome  reliance 
upon  the  word  of  God  can  find  no  failure  in  the  fulfill- 
ment of  the  divine  promise  to  the  trusting  and  obedient 
heart.  Firmly  as  we  believe  that  the  sun  will  rise  and 
set,  and  that  night  and  day  will  follow  each  other  in 
their  appointed  succession,  so  firmly  should  we  believe 
that  God  will  remember  his  covenant  of  mercy  and 
rescue  the  soul  that  cries  to  him  in  the  time  of 
trouble. 

We  all  believe  in  the  constancy  of  the  established 
order  of  nature  as  much  as  we  believe  in  our  own  exist- 
ence. All  the  skeptics  and  philosophers  in  the  world 
could  not  make  us  doubt  for  an  instant  that  the  sun  will 
rise  and  set  at  its  appointed  hour.  We  believe  that  the 
nature  and  properties  of  every  plant  and  animal  will 
remain  unchanged.  The  lark  and  the  nightingale  will 
sing  the  same  note  and  wear  the  same  plumage  as  long 
as  there  is  an  ear  to  be  charmed  with  song  or  an  eye  to 
be  delighted  with  beauty.  The  lion  and  the  bear  will 
haunt  the  same  regions  and  raven  for  the  same  prey 
until  the  full  acceptance  of  the  Gospel  has  cultivated 
all  the  waste  places  of  the  earth  and  transformed  the 
dens1  of  wild  beasts  into  the  happy  homes  of  men. 

We  send  the  seed  of  fruit  and  flower  half  round  the 


378       GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

globe  to  be  planted,  in  the  full  belief  that  in  whatever 
condition  of  climate  or  soil  it  is  reared  the  product  will 
be  the  same.  The  kind  of  tree  that  now  bears  the  fig, 
the  olive  or  the  apple  will  bear  the  same  fruit,  wher- 
ever cultivated,  as  long  as  the  sun  shall  rise  and  set 
and  the  day  shall  follow  the  night.  The  shrub  that 
now  puts  forth  a  rose  has  been  bearing  the  same  blossom 
ever  since  God  said,  "  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  the 
herb  yielding  seed,  and  the  fruit  tree  yielding  fruit 
after  its  kind,  whose  seed  is  in  itself."  We  insert  a 
small  bud  from  the  pear  into  the  branch  of  the  thorn, 
and  when  the  scion  shoots  forth  into  a  strong  limb, 
though  it  is  nourished  by  the  vital  fluid  from  the  thorn, 
we  confidently  expect  that  it  will  yield  the  fruit  of  the 
pear.  The  sap  ascends  the  common  trunk  of  the  thorn 
in  one  current  and  of  one  kind.  When  it  reaches  a 
certain  height  it  divides.  One  stream  follows  the  native 
branch  and  brings  forth  sharp  spines  and  a  small,  use- 
less berry.  The  other  turns  into  the  engrafted  stock 
of  the  pear,  and  by  some  subtle  and  mysterious  chem- 
istry is  so  transformed  as  to  nourish  a  thornless  branch 
and  bring  forth  a  large  and  luscious  fruit.  So  imperative 
and  unchangeable  is  the  law  that  every  tree  shall  yield 
fruit  after  its  kind.  We  believe  that  the  fertilizing 
substances  which  now  secure  a  rapid  and  luxuriant 
growth  will  have  the  same  effect  when  applied  to  the 
root  of  the  tree  and  plant  for  ages  to  come. 

And  this  sacred  and  sublime  order  shall  pervade  the 
whole,  material  creation  as  far  as  the  light  flies  and  the 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAT  AND  NIGHT.      379 

spheres  roll.  The  unseen  hand  of  the  Almighty  shall 
continue  to  turn  the  great  globe  of  the  earth  upon  its 
axis  with  perfect  uniformity.  He  shall  continue  to 
carry  it  through  pathless  space  around  the  sun,  six 
hundred  millions  of  miles  a  year  and  a  thousand  times 
swifter  than  the  eagle  flies,  and  yet  with  no  jar,  DO 
shaking  of  the  sea  upon  the  land,  no  collision  with 
other  worlds  which  he  is  carrying  by  millions  as  swift 
and  as  far  over  the  fields  of  immensity.  The  sun  shall 
pour  from  the  far  fountain  of  his  fiery  throne  the  same 
exhaustless  flood  of  light  in  which  the  whole  creation 
smiles.  The  stars  shall  keep  the  stations  that  they  held 
of  old.  Every  atom  and  every  world  shall  be  held  in 
position,  and  the  harmony  of  the  spheres  shall  be  kept 
as  perfect  as  it  was  when  the  morning  stars  sang  to- 
gether over  the  new  creation,  and  God  himself,  in  the 
review  of  everything  that  he  had  made,  pronounced  it 
very  good. 

This  perfect  order,  this  unchanging  constancy  in  all 
created  things,  the  greatest  as  well  as  the  least,  is  what 
we  all  see  and  know  and  rely  upon.  And  God  calls 
this  great  system  of  order  and  constancy  in  the  mate- 
rial creation  his  covenant  with  the  day  and  the  night, 
with  the  earth  and  the  sun  and  the  stars.  It  could 
not  be  maintained  for  a  moment  without  his  word  of 
power.  We  are  dependent  for  our  existence,  and  for 
everything  that  can  make  existence  a  blessing,  upon 
the  preservation  of  that  order,  upon  the  keeping  of 
God's  covenant.  If  the  Infinite  Sustainer  should 


380      GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

slacken  his  hand  and  let  the  earth  fall  out  of  its 
course  or  cease  to  roll  evenly  upon  its  axis,  the  fairest 
landscape  would  become  a  desolation.  Fire  and  flood 
would  sweep  from  pole  to  pole.  The  Power  that  made 
the  worlds  must  keep  them  in  order  every  moment,  or 
the  universe  would  return  to  chaos  and  night  resume 
its  everlasting  reign. 

And  shall  not  this  perfect  and  eternal  harmony  of 
the  earth  and  the  heavens  draw  our  hearts  to  him 
whose  promised  mercy  is  all  our  hope?  God  keeps 
his  covenant  of  the  day  and  the  night  unbroken  from 
age  to  age,  that  we  may  see  his  faithfulness  and  com- 
mit the  keeping  of  our  souls  to  him — that  we  may  be 
made  partakers  of  his  unchangeable  and  everlasting 
nature.  We  are  apt  to  see  God  more  in  his  judgments 
than  in  his  mercies.  Let  the  tornado  sweep  over  a 
great  city,  let  the  earthquake  shake  its  foundations 
with  such  terrible  violence  as  to  prostrate  hundreds 
of  houses  and  destroy  thousands  of  lives,  let  the  angel 
of  the  pestilence  pass  along  a  hundred  streets  and 
smite  the  old  and  the  young,  the  feeble  and  the  strong, 
with  a  resistless  stroke,  and  all  would  say,  This  is  the 
finger  of  God.  Men  would  proclaim  a  fast  and  call  a 
solemn  assembly,  and  pour  out  their  supplications  unto 
him  that  he  would  save  them  from  utter  destruction. 
How  much  better  to  say  of  the  healthful  season,  and 
the  silent  succession  of  day  and  night,  and  the  divine 
harmony  of  the  whole  creation,  "  This  is  the  Lord's 
doing,  and  it  is  marvelous  in  our  eyes !"  How  much 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT.       381 

better  to  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God  in  the  summer 
shower  and  the  cooling  wind,  in  the  genial  sunshine 
and  the  gathered  harvest,  by  which  our  lives  are  sus- 
tained, than  in  the  pestilence  and  the  tornado,  by 
which  our  lives  are  destroyed ! 

It  is  our  highest  wisdom  to  trust  in  the  immutable 
and  everlasting  God.  With  him  there  is  no  variable- 
ness nor  shadow  of  turning.  Our  lives  will  be  success- 
ful and  satisfactory  to  us  only  so  far  as  we  make  him 
our  Friend  and  rely  upon'  his  unchanging  word.  He 
writes  the  covenant  of  his  promise  broad  as  the  hea- 
vens and  deep  as  the  firm-set  earth.  Day  unto  day 
utters  forth  his  faithfulness,  night  unto  night  declares 
his  truth.  Everything  that  lives  and  grows  in  the 
whole  kingdom  of  Nature  bears  witness  to  his  power, 
his  wisdom,  his  love.  You  had  better  forget  every 
human  friend  you  have  in  the  world  than  to  forget 
God.  You  had  better  lose  faith  in  the  succession  of 
day  and  night  and  summer  and  winter  than  to  lose 
faith  in  Him  who  orders  all  the  changes  of  light  and 
darkness,  heat  and  cold.  When  the  icy  wind  howls 
and  the  earth  is  covered  with  snow,  you  speak  of  the 
opening  spring  and  the  coming  summer,  and  you  form 
all  your  plans  upon  the  full  expectation  that  the  sea*- 
sons  of  the  year  will  keep  their  appointed  round.  No- 
body can  shake  your  faith  in  the  constancy  of  the 
established  order  of  Nature.  If  some  one  should  come 
to  you  in  January  and  prophesy,  with  the  fervor  of 
Ezekiel  and  the  weeping  of  Jeremiah,  that  in  the  next 


<582       GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

midsummer  the  rivers  would  be  frozen,  the  fields  would 
be  covered  with  snow  and  the  sun  would  not  give  heat 
enough  to  melt  icicles  at  noon,  you  would  not  be- 
lieve him.  You  would  feel  perfectly  assured  that  God 
would  bring  the  summer  in  its  season. 

And  yet  all  this  divine  constancy  in  the  material 
world  is  maintained  that  we  may  have  faith  in  God's 
word  when  he  says,  "  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy 
place,  with  him  also  who  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble 
spirit.  All  things  shall  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  me.  The  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the 
hills  shall  be  removed,  but  my  kindness  shall  not 
depart,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be 
removed."  We  believe  God  unhesitatingly  when  he 
makes  known  his  will  by  the  powers  and  properties  of 
material  nature.  Why  should  we  not  all  the  more 
believe  him  when  he  says  that  his  word  of  threatening 
and  promise  to  the  children  of  men  shall  be  firmer 
than  the  everlasting  hills,  more  sure  and  immutable 
than  the  ordinances  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth  ? 

It  has  been  often  said  that  "the  undevout  astronomer 
is  mad" — mad,  because,  while  exploring  the  immensity 
of  creation,  and  passing  from  glory  to  glory  in  the 
mighty  vision  of  countless  worlds,  he  has  no  thought 
of  Him  who  made  them  all.  And  not  less  mad  is  he 
who  can  behold  the  evidences  of  the  divine  wisdom 
and  love  in  the  garden,  the  field  and  the  forest,  and 
yet  not  have  his  heart  drawn  forth  in  praise  and  trust 
ani  prayer  toward  Him  whose  beneficent  Spirit  clothes 


GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAT  AND  NIGHT.      383 

the  grass  with  its  green  robe,  adorns  the  flowers  with 
inimitable  beauty,  gives  strength  and  majesty  to  the 
oak,  and  breathes  the  breath  of  life  into  all  creatures 
that  live.  Good  men  sometimes  fear  that  they  shall  be 
deceived  and  blinded  by  vain  philosophy  if  they  try 
to  read  the  book  of  Nature  beside  the  Book  of  God. 
But  it  is  not  a  vain  nor  an  unspiritual  philosophy  which 
teaches  all  that  can  be  known  about  the  forms  that 
exist,  and  the  creatures  that  live,  and  the  laws  that  act 
all  around  us,  and  by  the  aid  of  such  instruction  leads 
us  to  the  knowledge  and  devout  contemplation  of  the 
wondrous  Being  who  made  them  all.  Were  we  disposed 
devoutly  to  receive  all  the  instructions  which  he  com- 
municates through  his  works,  we  should  better  under- 
stand his  word,  and  we  should  find  it  much  easier  to 
make  our  daily  life  a  continued  and  happy  walk  with 
God. 

All  true  greatness,  strength  and  consistency  of 
character  in  man,  all  honor,  success  and  joy  in  life, 
must  be  founded  upon  faith  in  God.  Philosophy 
teaches  obedience  to  the  laws  of  nature.  It  makes 
God  a  mysterious  and  unknown  force  aback  of  all  form 
and  phenomena,  and  man  a  machine  set  in  motion  by 
that  force  and  driven  by  unknown  means  to  an  un- 
known end.  Religion  teaches  obedience  to  the  will  of 
God.  It  makes  man  a  living  soul  kindled  into  life  by 
the  breath  of  the  Almighty,  and  endowed  with  such 
capacities  as  should  belong  to  the  child  and  heir  of  an 
Infinite  Father.  Religion  calls  upon  every  man  to 


384       GOD'S  COVENANT  OF  THE  DAY  AND  NIGHT. 

live  with  the  great  destiny  of  immortality  ever  in 
view.  It  makes  faith  in  God  the  first  and  strongest 
restraint  from  all  evil  and  motive  to  all  good. 

Believe  in  God  as  your  Creator,  and  you  will  see  his 
glory  in  all  the  works  of  his  hands.  Believe  in  him 
as  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  universe,  and  you  will 
see  his  laws  acting  in  sublime  and  awful  harmony  all 
around  you.  Believe  in  him  as  your  Father,  and  you 
will  see  his  face  bending  over  you  radiant  with  love, 
and  you  will  hear  his  voice  thrilling  with  compassion 
when  you  are  prostrate  with  affliction  and  no  human 
friend  can  help  you.  Believe  in  him  as  your  Saviour, 
and  you  can  rejoice  that  your  sins  are  all  forgiven, 
your  sorrows  are  all  healed,  your  wants  are  all  relieved, 
and  the  prospect  for  the  future  is  glorious  with  the 
dawn  of  heaven.  Believe  in  God  as  your  portion  and 
hope  for  ever,  and  when  life's  journey  is  ended  you 
can  go  forth  upon  the  untried  way  of  death  with  the 
triumphant  song,  "  I  know  that  my  Eedeemer  liveth." 


t  $hnt  irf  %  Singing. 


The  time  of  the  singing  is  come. — CANT.  u.  12. 


XIX. 

THE  TIME  OF  THE   SINGING. 

HE  harmony  of  the  world  is  maintained  by  the 
continual  balancing  of  forces,  one  against  another. 
The  great  powers  of  Nature  are  so  strong  that 
the  divine  voice  must  ever  say  to  them  all,  as  it 
says   to   the   sea,  "Thus   far   shalt  thou   go  and   no 
farther."     Any  one  of  them,  left  unrestrained,  would 
bring  the  earth  and  the  universe  to  desolation.     Sup- 
pose, for  example,  that  the  great  Sire  of  the  seasons 
should  fail  to  arrest  the  descending  course  of  the  sun 
at  the  winter  solstice,  and  leave  the  cold  to  go  on 
increasing  through  all  the  year :  the  bare  thought  of 
the  consequence  is  enough  to  fill  the  mind  with  horror. 
The  heavens  are  blackened  with  storm  after  storm,  and 
the  clouds  scatter  the  hoarfrost  like  ashes,  till  the  deep 
valleys  are  filled  and  the  high  mountains  are  covered 
with  a  deluge  of  snow.     The  north  wind  howls  from 
his  icy  home  with  sleety  hair  and  icy  breath,  and  none 
can  stand  before  his  cold.     The  sun  imparts  no  life  to 
the  dead  world  with  his  slanting  beams,  and  the  misty 
moon  sheds  her  pale  light  upon  a  universal  grave. 
The  cold  becomes  more  intense  with  the  narrowing 


388  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

circles  of  the  sun.  The  frozen  clouds  descend  in  bat- 
tering hail.  The  thin  vapor  of  the  morning,  cast  into 
millions  of  crystal  spears,  pierces  the  tingling  flesh 
wherever  exposed.  The  icy  air  abstracts  warmth  from 
all  living  bodies  faster  than  the  overtasked  laboratory 
of  life  can  kindle  it.  The  tenacious  trunk  of  the  living 
oak  and  all  thick  trees,  the  exposed  mass  of  granitic 
rock,  the  deepening  crust  of  the  solid  earth,  pierced  by 
the  infinitesimal  wedges  of  expanding  frost,  burst  with 
the  peal  of  continual  thunder.  And  the  roar  of  the 
rending  masses,  mingling  with  the  moan  of  the  winds 
through  the  shattered  forests  and  over  the  earth's  fast 
thickening  graves,  seems  like  the  sounds  of  a  battle  in 
which  the  mightiest  forces  of  Nature  meet  in  mutual 
conflict  to  desolate  and  destroy  the  habitation  of  man. 

The  sun  at  last  sinks  beneath  the  southern  horizon 
to  rise  no  more,  and  the  "  icy  earth  swings  blind  and 
blackening  in  the  moonless  air"  —  a  howling  wasbo 
dark  and  wild,  beaten  with  perpetual  storms — a  frozen 
hell,  where  "cold  performs  the  effect  of  fire."  The 
fitful  aurora,  gleaming  higher  up  the  northern  sky  as 
the  winter's  reign  becomes  complete,  seems  as  if  it 
were  the  lurid  glare  of  vengeance  sent  to  light  the 
accursed  orb  on  its  pathway  of  wrath,  and  to  hold  high 
the  fit  signal  of  an  outcast  world  wherever  it  may  go 
wandering  through  the  solitudes  and  abysses  of  spaca 

Such  would  be  the  effect  on  the  world  of  Nature  in 
our  temperate  zone  should  God  permit  the  winter's  icy 
reign  to  run  through  all  the  year.  In  some  old  book 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING.  389 

of  voyages  to  the  Arctic  regions  I  have  read  an  account 
of  a  vessel  which  was  found  fixed  immovably  in  ice, 
and  all  on  board  had  been  transformed  into  statues  of 
ice.  There  was  the  cabin  boy,  wrapped  in  his  narrow 
locker,  where  he  had  passed  insensibly  from  the  sleep 
of  the  night  into  that  frozen  slumber  which  knows  no 
waking.  There  was  the  helmsman  with  his  faithful 
hand  frozen  to  the  helm,  with  which  he  had  striven  in 
vain  to  steer  his  way  out  from  the  drifting  islands  of 
ice.  There  was  the  watch  at  the  mast-head,  with  his 
fixed  and  glassy  eye  still  looking  forth  upon  vacancy, 
as  if  to  find  some  passage  through  the  interlocking 
arms  and  besieging  battalions  of  ice — a  frozen  sentinel 
surrounded  by  his  frozen  foes.  There  was  the  steward 
below,  still  bending  over  the  tinder-box,  with  flint  and 
Bteel  in  his  frozen  hand.  There  was  the  captain  at  his 
desk,  with  the  log-book  open  before  him  and  his  frozen 
fingers  still  holding  the  pen  with  which  he  had  written 
the  words,  "  For  a  whole  day  the  steward  has  been  try- 
ing in  vain  to  kindle  the  lost  fire."  All  were  dead, 
changed  to  ice.  They  had  eyes,  but  they  saw  not; 
ears,  but  they  heard  not;  hands,  but  they  felt  not; 
organs  of  speech,  but  they  spake  not ;  the  dress  and 
forms  and  attitudes  of  life  were  theirs,  yet  frozen  into 
statues  of  ice  and  made  by  eternal  winter  as  hard  and 
glistening  as  marble.  The  horrible  representation  of 
life  in  death  was  more  fearful  to  the  brave  voyagers 
who  found  them  there  than  the  icy  rigors  of  the  climate 
itself.  They  hurried  away  from  the  sepulchral  ship, 


390  THE  TIME   OF  THE  SINGING. 

leaving  the  motionless  crew  as  they  found  them  in  their 
frozen  slumber. 

The  mariners  upon  the  sunny  seas  of  our  temperate 
zone  would  be  changed  to  such  spectral  crews  of  icy 
death  in  a  single  year  should  the  Divine  Power  fail  to 
arrest  the  increasing  cold  of  any  winter.  God  breathes 
upon  the  earth,  and  the  green  foliage  of  spring  breaks 
forth  upon  branches  that  but  a  little  while  before  were 
sparkling  with  flowers  of  frost.  He  hangs  the  fruits 
of  autumn  upon  boughs  that  were  bending  with  the 
weight  of  snow.  And  every  return  of  life  to  the  dead 
world  of  Nature  is  a  resurrection  wrought  by  divine 
power.  If  God  did  not  bless  the  springing  of  the 
flowers  and  of  the  grass,  they  would  sleep  in  the  dust 
of  the  earth  for  ever. 

The  spring  is  a  country  child.  To  be  charmed  with 
her  bloom  and  beauty  we  must  see  her  in  her  own 
home.  The  patch  of  green  in  the  public  squares  of  the 
great  city,  and  the  stunted  trees  with  their  homesick 
look  along  the  crowded  street,  are  poor  substitutes  for 
fields  of  springing  grain  and  forests  of  green  foliage 
and  landscapes  of  living  verdure. 

And  yet  even  here,  where  the  sweet  face  of  mother 
earth  is  blinded  with  brick  and  stone,  we  cannot  be 
unconscious  of  the  fact  that  a  mighty  change  is  going 
on  in  the  world  of  Nature  when  "the  time  of  the 
singing  is  come."  We  feel  it  in  the  air.  We  see  it  in 
the  sunshine.  We  hear  it  in  the  salutations  with  which 
men  meet  each  other  every  morning.  We  should  need 


THE  TIME   OF  THE  SINGING.  395 

to  be  lifeless  ourselves  not  to  be  moved  when  the  whole 
creation  around  us  is  heaving  and  awaking  with  the 
stupendous  miracle  which  divine  power  works  every 
year  in  the  resurrection  of  spring  from  the  icy  grave 
of  winter. 

The  timid  grass  comes  peeping  forth  from  neglected 
corners  and  roadsides.  The  climbing  vine  puts  out 
tendrils  and  prepares  to  creep  a  little  higher  on  the 
naked  wall.  The  shadow  of  rustling  foliage  thickens 
every  day  in  the  public  squares  and  on  the  sunny  sides 
of  the  streets.  And  what  we  see  in  miniature  in  the 
city  is  displayed  in  all  the  magnificence  of  nature  in 
the  open  country.  Along  the  winding  streams  and 
across  the  plains  and  up  the  hillsides  and  over  the 
wood-crowned  mountains,  life,  in  myriads  of  forms, 
springs  up  and  luxuriates  in  the  milder  air  and  the 
genial  sunshine.  The  landscape,  which  a  little  while 
before  was  desolate  and  dreary,  is  all  alive  with  the 
flow  of  streams  and  the  flutter  of  wings.  The  glad 
tribes  of  the  sun  come  back  from  their  winter  migra- 
tions, and  they  rejoice  to  find  their  old  homes  as  bright 
and  cheery  as  when  they  left  them  basking  in  the 
autumn  light.  The  cold  skies  of  the  northern  clime, 
softened  by  the  lessening  night  and  the  lengthening 
day,  look  down  in  silent  benediction  on  the  springing 
grass  and  the  sprouting  grain. 

The  distant  mountains,  on  which  the  snow  laid  deep 
and  cold  through  all  the  winter  months,  throw  off  the 
chilling  pall  of  death,  and  put  on  the  royal  robe  of 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

living  green  in  which  the  whole  creation  smiles.  The 
delicate-footed  spring  walks  in  the  vales  and  over  the 
hills,  and  on  the  high  places  of  the  earth,  and  the  flut- 
ter of  her  garments  scents  the  air  with  fresh  blossoms 
wherever  she  goes.  The  mountain  streams  break  loose 
from  their  fetters  of  frost,  and  roll  with  accumulated 
volume  and  velocity  on  their  way  to  the  distant  sea. 
The  legions  of  snow  and  hail  and  stormy  wind  go 
home  to  rest  in  the  icy  halls  of  their  native  north. 
On  the  broad  plain,  where  they  fought  and  trampled 
out  the  life  of  every  living  thing,  the  gentle  zephyr 
sings  its  evening  song ;  the  new-born  verdure  bows  to 
the  gentle  baptism  of  the  night's  dew ;  the  open  flower 
swings  its  fragrant  cup  to  the  breeze  of  the  morning  in 
offering  grateful  incense  to  the  King  of  heaven.  There, 
too,  the  young  bird  will  soon  try  its  half-fledged  wing. 
The  tiny  insect,  whose  frail  life  is  only  cased  up  in 
defences  of  gossamer,  will  live  its  day  of  existence 
without  knowing  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  winter's 
cold.  The  warm  smile  of  the  genial  sun  will  suffuse 
the  whole  face  of  Nature  with  the  glow  of  health  and 
gladaess.  The  soft  wind  of  the  south  will  woo  the 
feeble  invalid  from  his  close-pent  chamber.  He  will 
venture  timidly  forth  into  the  open  air,  and  drink  into 
his  exhausted  frame  fresh  draughts  from  the  exuberant 
life  with  which  the  whole  creation  overflows. 

And  now,  when  we  go  forth  into  the  fields  in  the 
bright  morning  or  the  fresh  evening-tide,  we  can  think 
of  nothing  save  the  wondrous  resurrection  wrought 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING.  393 

by  the  Divine  Hand  in  the  world  of  Nature.  How 
great  and  mighty,  and  yet  how  silent  and  gentle,  the 
change !  It  seems  but  yesterday  that  we  wrapt  our- 
selves in  our  thickest  garments  when  exposed  to  the 
open  air,  and  the  shivering  horse  shook  his  frosty 
mane  and  turned  his  face  from  the  freezing  wind. 
Now  we  choose  the  shady  side  of  the  street  to  escape 
the  heat,  and  the  feeble  invalid  pants  beneath  the  weight 
of  his  warm  dress.  The  young  lambs  sport  on  the 
hillsides,  where  the  wind  howled  and  the  ice  shone  in 
the  cold  light  of  the  winter  moon.  It  seems  but  yes- 
terday that  the  freezing  blast  played  upon  the  ten 
thousand  shreds  of  the  evergreen  pine,  and  swayed  to 
and  fro  the  long  arms  of  the  leafless  forest,  making  its 
melancholy  moan  over  the  frozen  grave  of  a  buried 
world.  Now,  the  forest  walks  are  checkered  with  the 
flickering  shade  of  green  leaves,  and  the  gentle  breeze 
quivers  with  the  song  of  birds. 

And  shall  we  observe  this  universal  resurrection 
from  the  icy  grave  of  winter  every  year  only  as  a 
thing  of  course  ?  Shall  we  idly  luxuriate  in  the  balm 
and  the  beauty,  the  softening  skies  and  the  sensuous 
joy  of  returning  spring,  without  once  asking  whose 
hand  leads  the  procession  of  the  seasons  in  their 
annual  round?  Has  all  this  mighty  change  in  the 
natural  world  no  lessons  of  heavenly  wisdom  for  our 
instruction  ?  Did  Christ  make  the  flowers  speak,  yet 
leave  the  spring  without  a  voice  ?  May  not  this  renew- 
ing, regenerating  Spirit,  diffused  through  all  Nature  and 


394  THE   TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

working  with  new  activity  in  all  living  forms,  enter  into 
communion  with  us  and  breathe  new  life  into  our  souls? 

Surely  God  has  given  us  the  divine  faculty  of  reason 
that  we  may  recognize  his  hand  in  all  the  changes  of 
the  rolling  year.  What  we  call  the  law  of  Nature  is 
only  the  will  of  God.  He  leads  the  solemn  march  of 
the  seasons  in  unbroken  order  from  age  to  age.  He 
makes  summer  and  winter.  He  maintains  the  con- 
stancy of  day  and  night.  He  speaks  to  us  by  the  per- 
fect and  beneficent  order  of  the  natural  world,  not  less 
truly  than  by  miracle  and  special  revelation.  It  is  the 
uniformity,  not  the  interruption,  of  natural  law  which 
calls  for  the  loudest  tribute  of  gratitude  and  praise  to 
the  great  Sire  of  the  seasons,  the  Monarch  of  the  climes 
and  of  all  that  dwell  in  them.  We  should  see  more 
of  God  in  the  gentle  and  constant  return  of  spring  than 
in  the  earthquake  and  the  storm,  the  pestilence  and 
the  famine.  It  is  the  cold  and  skeptical  spirit  of 
worldliness  that  sees  no  God  in  common  things.  It  is 
unbelief  that  would  see  great  signs  and  startling  won- 
ders, and  overlook  the  perpetual  witness  which  God 
gives  of  himself  in  the  orderly  coming  and  going  of 
the  year. 

Suppose  yourself  walking  in  the  open  country,  sur- 
rounded by  the  waste  and  desolation  of  winter's  icy 
reign.  The  frozen  herbage  of  the  previous  year 
crackles  and  breaks  beneath  your  feet.  The  long 
branches  of  the  forest  creak  and  groan  beneath  their 
thick  coating  of  ice.  The  wind  howls  in  hoarse  disso- 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING.  395 

nance  over  hill  and  plain,  and  drives  the  crystal  spears 
of  frost  into  your  tingling  flesh.  The  legions  of  the 
Btorm,  sleet  and  snow  drive  in  thick-charging  bat- 
talions along  the  darkened  air.  Suddenly,  as  by  the 
stroke  of  an  enchanter's  wand,  the  whole  scene  of  deso- 
lation is  changed  before  your  eyes  into  the  luxuriance 
and  gladness  of  summer's  high  and  gorgeous  noon. 
The  earth  beneath  your  feet  is  carpeted  with  living 
green.  The  forest  is  clothed  with  rich  foliage.  The 
wind  breathes  in  gentle  murmurs  and  bears  the  fra- 
grance of  expanded  blossoms.  The  insect  and  the 
feathered  tribes  sing  in  the  grove  or  rejoice  on  the 
wing.  And  the  whole  landscape,  which  but  a  moment 
before  seemed  a  universal  grave,  is  full  of  life  and 

joy. 

Would  you  not  consider  one  such  instantaneous 
transfiguration  of  Nature  an  overwhelming  display  of 
divine  power  ?  Could  you  see  it  with  your  own  eyes, 
and  not  feel  an  irresistible  impulse  to  lift  up  your 
voice  in  loud  exclamations  of  wonder  and  joy  at  the 
great  and  marvelous  works  of  the  Lord  Almighty  ? 

And  yet  such  a  vast  change  from  winter's  blight  to 
summer's  bloom  wrought  in  a  moment  would  be  a  far 
less  beneficent  display  of  divine  power  than  is  made 
every  year  in  sight  of  us  all  by  the  silent  and  gradual 
return  of  spring.  We  are  dependent  upon  the  uniform 
course  of  Nature  for  our  very  existence  and  for  every- 
thing that  can  make  existence  a  blessing.  It  is  a 
greater  display  of  wisdom  and  power  and  love  to 


396  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

maintain  the  orderly  succession  of  heat  and  cold  and 
day  and  night,  than  it  would  be  stop  the  sun  in  the 
heavens  or  bring  forth  the  flowers  of  spring  in  the 
depths  of  winter.  If  we  look  for  the  hidden  cause  be- 
hind the  visible  result,  we  shall  need  no  miracle  to 
make  us  believe  in  God.  But  if  we  see  nothing  but  a 
soulless  principle  of  order  in  the  uniformity  of  the 
seasons,  no  miracle  can  extinguish  our  doubts  or 
establish  our  faith.  It  is  the  fool's  presumption  to 
gaze  and  wonder.  It  is  the  fool's  fate  to  despise  and 
perish. 

The  earth  is  full  of  life  again  when  spring  returns, 
because  it  has  been  touched  by  the  hand  of  Him  who 
breathed  into  man's  nostrils  the  breath  of  life  and  made 
him  a  living  soul.  To  renew  the  face  of  the  earth  is 
the  peculiar  and  divine  prerogative  of  Him  who  has 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  in  the  Gospel. 
When  we  see  the  springing  grass,  the  opening  bud  and 
the  expanding  leaf,  we  should  feel  ourselves  to  be  look- 
ing upon  the  work  of  Him  who  stopped  the  bier  on  its 
way  to  the  grave  and  brought  back  the  flush  of  life  to 
the  pale  cheek  of  the  dead.  When  we  feel  the  warm 
breath  of  the  south  wind  blessing  the  earth  and  bring- 
ing the  rain,  our  hearts  should  go  forth  in  thankfulness 
to  him  who  breathed  upon  his  disciples  and  said,  "  Re- 
ceive ye  the  Holy  Ghost." 

We  must  wake  to  spiritual  life  ourselves,  and  then 
we  shall  see  revelations  of  God  in  all  the  phenomena 
of  Nature.  We  all  count  it  an  act  of  divine  charity 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING.  397 

only  for  once  to  relieve  the  poor  in  their  poverty  and 
to  visit  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  in  their  affliction. 
Shall  we  not  much  more  wonder  and  adore  in  view  of 
that  Infinite  Beneficence  which  crowns  the  opening  year 
with  goodness  and  pours  the  abundance  of  the  harvest 
into  millions  of  homes?  We  praise  the  man  who 
carries  bread  to  the  hungry  and  kindles  the  fire  on  the 
hearth  of  the  lowly.  Shall  we  not  much  more  praise 
the  great  Father  who  pours  the  warm  sunlight  into  the 
homes  of  the  thankless  and  fills  the  hearts  of  depend- 
ent millions  with  food  and  gladness  ? 

*When  the  quickening  breath  of  the  Almighty  is 
calling  forth  life  in  countless  forms  from  the  cold  grave 
of  winter,  is  it  not  a  fitting  season  for  us  to  crave  a 
spiritual  and  divine  quickening  in  our  souls?  The 
flowers  bloom  only  to  fade.  The  harvests  ripen  only 
to  perish.  The  birds  sing  only  for  a  season.  All 
things  that  live  in  the  world  of  Nature  are  appointed 
unto  death.  The  soul  that  is  quickened  by  the  Divine 
Spirit  in  the  new  spring-time  of  faith  and  love  shall 
never  die.  The  glorious  Sun  of  Righteousness  rises 
upon  us  with  healing  in  his  beams,  that  he  may  waken 
our  spiritual  nature  to  a  blessed  and  an  immortal  life. 
The  vast  and  mighty  resurrection  of  spring  from  the 
cold  grave  of  winter  is  only  the  sign,  the  passing  sym- 
bol, of  the  divine  power  which  Christ  displays  in 
quickening  souls  that  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. 
The  great  Sire  of  the  seasons  comes  forth  in  the  glory 
and  the  gladness  of  the  blossoming  spring ;  he  pours 


398  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

new  life  into  all  the  vital  forces  of  Nature  with  the 
advancing  summer,  that  he  may  awaken  in  us  a  long- 
ing for  that  life  over  which  death  shall  have  no  power. 
You  have  only  to  throw  open  the  windows  of  your  soul, 
and  life,  from  the  light  of  the  world,  will  come  in. 
You  have  only  to  break  up  the  fallow  ground  of  your 
heart,  and  the  needed  blessing  will  fall  like  the  rain 
and  refresh  like  the  dew.  The  sunlight  and  the  rain 
are  only  symbo-ls  of  God's  greater  bounty  in  the 
bestowment  of  spiritual  life. 

The  prophets  in  ancient  time  reproached  the  people 
of  Israel  because  they  failed  to  discern  the  operation 
of  God's  hand  in  the  order  of  Nature.  The  stork  and 
the  crane,  the  turtle  and  the  swallow  returning  from 
their  annual  migration,  the  former  and  the  latter  rain 
given  in  their  season,  the  appointed  weeks  of  harvest 
fulfilled  in  their  order,  the  ox  obedient  to  his  owner 
and  the  ass  seeking  daily  sustenance  at  his  master's 
crib,  the  century-living  cedar  defying  a  thousand  storms 
on  the  cloud-swept  mountain,  the  frail  flower  of  the 
valley  perishing  when  the  wind  passeth  over, — were  all 
appointed  to  teach  men  the  great  lesson  of  trust  in 
God  and  obedience  to  his  word.  Even  the  heathen 
were  declared  to  be  without  excuse,  because  they  did 
not  discern  the  eternal  power  and  Godhead  in  all  the 
varied  phenomena  of  Nature  through  the  whole  course 
of  the  circling  year. 

And  when  the  Divine  Teacher  himself  appeared,  he 
clothed  the  most  exalted  spiritual  truths  in  the  garb  of 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

common  and  earthly  things.  The  fowls  of  the  air  and 
the  lilies  of  the  field ;  the  growing  blade  of  corn  and 
the  teeming  branches  of  the  vine;  the  fig  tree  shooting 
forth  its  tender  bud  or  scattering  its  untimely  fruit;  the 
grain  cast  from  the  sower's  hand  and  the  smallest  of 
seeds  springing  up  into  a  branching  tree;  the  reddening 
clouds  of  sunset  betokening  the  fair  weather  of  the 
morning ;  the  swelling  torrent  of  the  mountain  sweeping 
away  tjie  fool's  house  from  its  sandy  foundations, — all 
teach  lessons  of  the  deepest  spiritual  truth  when  Jesus 
gives  them  a  divine  interpretation.  And  he  sharply 
reproved  the  men  of  his  time  because  they  had  not 
learned  from  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the  grass  of  the 
field  and  the  seasons  of  the  year  the  lessons  of  trust 
which  he  taught  in  his  Word.  He  said  that  the  very 
stones  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  would  cry  out  in 
hosannas  to  welcome  the  King  of  Zion  if  the  shouting 
children  should  hold  their  peace.  And  surely  it  is  not 
too  much  for  us  to  say  that  the  living  and  growing 
world,  bursting  into  new  life  under  the  reviving  breath 
of  spring,  speaks  in  numberless  voices  of  the  Creator's 
glory.  It  is  in  the  spirit  of  the  Psalms  and  of  the 
Prophets  and  of  Christ  himself  that  we  feel  ourselves 
called  upon  to  join  in  the  universal  hymn  of  praise 
and  thanksgiving  which  rises  to  God  from  all  his 
works.  Standing  in  the  open  country,  with  all  the  new 
life  and  bloom  of  returning  spring  around  us,  we  have 
only  to  ask,  in  the  spirit  of  the  inspired  men  of  old, 
what  is  the  cause  of  the  mighty  change,  and  ten  thou- 


400  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

sand  voices  will  answer — GOD.  The  silvery  streams 
singing  down  the  hillsides,  and  the  waving  forests 
swept  by  the  south  wind ;  the  eagle  soaring  in  his  pride 
of  place,  and  the  swallow  twittering  round  the  farm- 
house ;  the  high,  dark  mountain,  with  its  sky-piercing 
summit,  and  the  quiet  meadows  basking  in  the  sun- 
shine,— all 

41  Utter  forth  God,  and  fill  the  earth  with  praise.'1 

The  hibernating  brute,  in  compliance  with  the  mys- 
terious promptings  of  his  nature,  lies  down  to  his  long 
winter's  slumber,  and  rises  up  again  to  rejoice  in  the 
return  of  spring,  with  unvarying  regularity.  The  crane 
and  the  swallow,  the  migratory  birds  of  every  species, 
know  their  appointed  times.  They  depart  and  return 
as  invariably  as  the  tides  follow  the  moon  in  heaven, 
rising  and  falling  in  eternal  flow.  And  if  we  ask  what 
that  mysterious  something  is  which  we  call  instinct, 
and  which  is  an  infallible  guide  to  the  brute  creation, 
we  can  only  say  it  is  something  inexplicable  and 
divine.  It  is  not  skill  or  practice  which  enables  the 
bird  to  build  her  nest  and  the  bee  to  shape  her  waxen 
cell.  It  is  the  Divine  Mind  itself  working  in  the  un- 
conscious creature  according  to  its  own  choice  and 
plan. 

And  the  same  Divine  Mind  is  ever  working  in  us, 
without  our  leave  and  in  a  way  beyond  our  control. 
We  are  prompted  to  some  courses  of  conduct  and  we 
are  held  back  from  others  by  a  certain  divine  Instinct 


THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING.  401 

Just  as  truly  as  the  bee  is  prompted  to  lay  down  the 
lines  of  its  waxen  cell  with  mathematical  precision ; 
just  as  truly  as  the  stork,  without  any  plan  of  its  own, 
is  led  to  seek  the  south  in  the  autumn  and  the  north 
in  the  spring.  And  this  same  divine  Instinct  creates 
within  us  an  irrepressible  craving  for  a  higher  life 
and  a  better  home  than  earth  and  time  can  give.  It 
will  not  permit  us  to  be  satisfied  with  pleasures  and 
possessions  that  must  soon  pass  away  and  perish.  It 
will  not  let  us  forget  the  great  fact  that  we  have  been 
created  to  live  for  ever.  It  impels  us  with  solemn  and 
secret  urgency  to  look  for  an  everlasting  foundation  on 
which  to  build  our  most  cherished  hopes.  This  is  the 
movement  of  the  Infinite  Mind  acting  so  gently  within 
us  that  we  think  the  impulse  is  our  own.  This  is  the 
still  small  voice  of  God  whispering  in  the  secret  place 
of  the  soul,  and  creating  within  us  a  craving  for  a 
blessed  and  an  immortal  life. 

It  becomes  us  to  reverence  that  inward  Voice,  to 
stand  in  awe  of  that  divine  Instinct  which  impels  us 
to  look  forward  to  the  great  destiny  of  the  future.  It 
speaks  in  the  secret  places  of  retirement,  and  it  makes 
us  feel  that  it  is  an  awful  and  sacred  thing  to  be  alone 
with  God.  It  speaks  in  the  dark  hour  of  trial  and 
temptation,  and  we  have  only  to  heed  its  monition  and 
we  shall  be  led  to  the  source  of  infinite  strength  and  con- 
solation. It  speaks  in  the  moments  of  the  most  solemn 
reflection,  and  it  makes  us  feel  that  no  earthly  posses- 
sion can  compensate  for  the  loss  of  the  soul.  It  speaks 


402  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SINGING. 

in  the  loving-kindness  of  a  heavenly  Father,  in  the  re- 
deeming love  of  a  dying  Saviour,  in  the  pleadings  and 
persuasions  of  a  divine  Comforter,  in  ten  thousand 
mercies,  instructions  and  providences  for  good,  and  it 
always  creates  a  longing  for  a  higher  life  and  a  better 
home.  It  always  declares  that  the  favor  of  God  alone 
can  satisfy  the  soul.  It  always  gives  meaning  and 
power  to  the  word  of  the  ancient  prophet — "  Seek  ye 
the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found ;  call  upon  him  while 
be  is  near." 


The  earth  shall  teach  thee. — JOB  xii.  8. 


XX. 

EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

D  made  the  earth  and  filled  it  with  riches  ,ind 
1  beauty  for  man  to  dwell  in.  He  was  a  long 
time  in  building  and  preparing  the  house  before 
he  gave  it  into  the  hands  of  its  destined  occu- 
pant. Uncounted  ages  before  a  human  foot  trod  the 
earth  the  Almighty  Father  was  lifting  up  the  moun- 
tains, and  leveling  the  plains,  and  marking  out  the 
channels  of  the  rivers,  and  storing  the  secret  chambers 
of  the  hills  with  treasures,  that  his  earthly  children  in 
all  succeeding  time  might  have  everything  to  supply 
their  wants  in  the  house  which  he  had  built  for 
them. 

When  a  rich  and  indulgent  human  father  builds  a 
house  for  his  son,  he  chooses  the  situation,  he  lays  out 
the  grounds,  he  plans  the  whole  structure,  he  propor- 
tions and  finishes  the  apartments,  he  provides  for  inter- 
nal conveniences  and  comforts,  he  adorns  the  walls  and 
niches  and  windows  with  works  of  art,  he  fills  the 
chambers  with  furniture  and  the  storerooms  with  pro- 
visions. And  all  is  done  with  so  much  forethought 
and  generosity,  with  so  much  regard  for  the  peculiar 


405 


406  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

wants  and  tastes  of  the  son,  and  with  so  many  expres- 
sions of  the  father's  own  mind  and  heart,  that  the  son, 
when  he  comes  to  live  in  the  house,  is  reminded  of  his 
father  every  hour  of  the  day.  He  looks  at  a  picture 
on  the  wall  and  says,  "  That  is  just  my  father's  taste." 
He  enters  an  apartment  and  he  says,  "  Everything  in 
this  room  was  made  under  my  father's  eye  and  by  his 
direction."  He  looks  out  of  the  window  and  he  sees 
the  flowers  and  trees  that  his  father  planted.  He  lies 
down  to  sleep  at  night  upon  a  bed  that  his  father 
bought.  He  wakes  in  the  morning  surrounded  with 
sources  of  enjoyment  which  his  father  provided.  We 
should  say  that  a  son  living  in  such  a  house  must  be 
very  thankless  indeed  if  he  could  forget  his  father. 
We  should  say  that  everything  about  him  would  teach 
him  from  day  to  day  new  lessons  of  his  father-'s  fore- 
thought and  generosity. 

Even  so  our  heavenly  Father  has  built  the  great 
house  of  the  earth,  and  he  has  finished  and  furnished 
the  mighty  structure  so  richly  that  everything  around 
us  should  speak  to  us  of  him.  The  heavens  above  us 
declare  his  glory  and  the  earth  is  full  of  his  praise. 
Everything  that  we  see,  possess  or  enjoy  has  received 
its  existence,  its  form  and  use  and  properties  from  the 
All-creative  Mind.  We  are  clothed  from  his  flocks  and 
fields.  We  walk  in  his  strength.  He  delights  us  with 
the  beauty  and  he  instructs  us  with  the  variety  of  his 
works.  Every  faculty  of  our  being  is  his  gift.  Every 
hour  we  live  he  redeems  our  life  from  destruction. 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  407 

This  magnificent  house  of  the  earth  displays  the 
handiwork  of  our  Father  in  every  apartment.  There 
is  a  beauty  in  the  structure  and  a  mystery  in  the  life 
of  the  leaf,  the  blade  of  grass,  the  smallest  insect,  which 
we  cannot  comprehend.  There  is  an  exhaustless  rich- 
ness in  the  sunlight,  in  the  seasons,  in  the  productions 
of  the  earth.  There  is  a  grandeur  in  the  forests,  the 
mountains,  the  oceans,  which  are  ever  lifting  up  the  de- 
vout mind  to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  the  Maker  of  all 
worlds. 

We  are  affected  and  wrought  upon  every  moment 
by  these  great  and  marvelous  works  of  God  with  which 
we  are  surrounded.  The  cold  of  winter  and  the  heat 
of  summer  kindle  emotions  within  us,  and  put  our 
minds  upon  trains  of  thought  to  which  we  should 
have  been  strangers  had  not  God  appointed  the  chang- 
ing seasons  of  the  earth  to  teach  us.  Our  whole  in- 
ward world  of  thought  and  feeling  is  built  up  of  mate- 
rials which  we  draw  from  the  outward  world  around 
us.  It  is  impossible  to  think  at  all,  except  so  far  as  we 
use  the  images  of  these  earthly  things  which  we  see 
and  possess,  which  we  enjoy  and  suffer.  We  are 
bound  to  the  earth  by  chains  that  hold  every  particle 
of  our  bodies — every  nerve  and  sense  and  organ.  This 
material  house  which  God  has  built  for  the  soul  to  live 
in  is  itself  a  part  of  the  earth,  and  it  must  be  given 
back  to  the  dust  from  which  it  was  taken.  It  becomes 
us  therefore  to  receive  with  solemn  interest  the  lessons 
which  this  great  house  of  the  earth  is  appointed  by  its 


408  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

Maker  to  teach.  It  becomes  us  to  study  the  great  and 
marvelous  work  of  our  Father,  that  we  may  learn  what 
thoughtful  ness,  what  minute  and  tender  consideration 
he  has  had  for  us  in  building  a  house  for  us  to 
live  in. 

And  this  is  the  first  lesson  which  the  earth  teaches 
the  devout  and  attentive  mind — the  wise,  kind  and 
special  forethought  of  our  Father  in  building  and  fur- 
nishing a  home  for  his  earthly  children.  Long  before 
God  planted  a  garden  eastward  in  Eden  for  the  first 
human  pair  to  dwell  in,  he  was  preparing  the  whole 
earth  for  its  future  inhabitant.  Mountains  of  rock 
were  worn  away  by  centuries  of  storms  and  milleniums 
of  changing  seasons,  and  the  particles  removed  by  heat 
and  cold  and  rain  were  carried  down  to  the  plain  and 
mixed  in  due  proportions  with  other  elements  to  form 
the  fertile  soil.  Mighty  forests  were  reared  through 
long  successions  of  ages,  and  the  substance  of  the  de- 
cayed vegetation  was  strewn  in  thick  beds  along  the 
river  banks  and  over  the  wide  prairies  to  prepare  rich 
fields  for  our  wheat  and  corn.  Clay  and  lime  and 
shells  were  deposited  on  the  floor  of  the  sea,  and  then 
the  vast  beds  were  uplifted  above  the  waters,  that  we 
might  plant  gardens  and  build  houses  and  inhabit 
great  cities  where  the  monsters  of  the  deep  once  played 
and  the  billows  rolled  without  a  shore.  Great  convul- 
sions of  fire  and  flood  and  earthquake  and  volcano 
broke  up  the  rocky  strata,  transported  the  loosened 
fragments  long  distances  over  the  surface,  rolled  them 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  409 

smooth  in  the  strong  currents  of  many  waters,  ground 
them  to  powder  in  the  whirling  mill  of  mighty  mael- 
stroms and  roaring  cataracts,  diversified  the  form  of 
hills  and  valleys  and  plains.  And  all  this  was  done 
that  we  might  have  access  to  the  secret  riches  of  this 
great  house  of  the  earth,  and  that  every  one  of  the 
great  family  of  man  might  find  a  congenial  home 
among  the  hills,  on  the  plain,  or  by  the  river  side,  and 
that  all  might  find  pleasant  and  profitable  occupation. 
The  storms  and  floods  and  upheavals  of  far-distant 
ages  were  sent  forth  to  toil,  like  blind  Titans,  amid 
darkening  mists  and  quaking  mountains  and  crashing 
icebergs,  in  reducing  the  elements  of  the  earth  to  order 
and  in  preparing  the  green  landscape  to  smile  upon  its 
new  possessor  when  man  opened  his  wondering  eyes 
upon  the  beautiful  world  which  God  had  made  for  him. 
And  every  feature  in  the  earth's  surface,  every  new 
discovery  of  its  exhaustless  riches,  should  teach  us  how 
long  and  generously  our  Father  was  providing  for  our 
need  before  we  came  into  possession  of  our  earthly 
house.  It  touches  our  hearts  when  we  find  that  a 
friend  has  remembered  us  far  off  in  a  foreign  land, 
and  has  brought  home  some  memento  of  scenes  which 
he  visited,  just  because  he  knew  we  would  be  pleased 
with  such  a  remembrance.  And  we  think  all  the  more 
of  it  if  that  friend  had  great  cares  and  responsibilities 
upon  his  mind,  and  he  incurred  much  trouble  and 
expense  just  to  let  us  know  that  he  had  not  for- 
gotten us. 


HO  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

There  have  been  great  thoughts  of  kindness  toward 
us  in  the  Infinite  Mind  from  of  old,  even  from  ever- 
lasting. That  great  Being  who  built  all  worlds  and 
who  upholds  all  with  the  word  of  his  power  has  never 
failed  to  think  of  us  as  a  wise  and  loving  Father 
thinks  of  his  children.  He  has  employed  uncounted 
ages  in  preparing  the  earth,  the  air,  the  waters  and 
the  light  to  yield  us  the  means  of  subsistence  and  the 
comforts  which  we  enjoy  day  by  day.  We  are  saved 
from  pain  and  intolerable  agony  from  hour  to  hour, 
just  because  our  heavenly  Father  foresaw  and  pro- 
vided for  our  necessities  a  thousand  ages  ago. 

And  surely  we  must  be  very  unthankful  if  we  do 
not  delight  to  think  of  such  a  Friend.  We  must  be 
very  thoughtless  if  we  are  not  constantly  seeing  and 
experiencing  something  to  draw  our  minds  to  our 
Father's  love.  It  should  be  just  as  easy  and  natural 
for  us  to  think  of  God  and  thank  him  for  his  kind- 
ness, as  it  would  be  to  think  of  a  human  friend  who 
had  given  us  a  house  to  live  in  and  provided  us  with 
every  comfort  that  money  can  buy. 

The  essence  of  all  religion  is  simply  to  own  and  re- 
gard our  relationship  to  God  just  as  it  is — to  think  and 
act  and  feel  toward  him  just  as  his  kindness  to  us  de- 
mands. All  religious  exercises,  devout  meditation, 
reading  the  divine  word,  longings  after  purity,  faith, 
love,  prayer,  praise,  worship,  are  simply  manifestations 
of  right  dispositions  toward  God.  Everything  that  we 
learn,  possess  or  enjoy  is  given  to  teach  us  something 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  411 

about  God.  And  therefore  it  is  the  most  strange,  un- 
reasonable and  foolish  thing  in  man  not  to  think  of 
God.  If  we  would  only  think  of  him  as  often  as  he 
gives  us  something  to  remind  us  of  his  care,  he  would 
be  in  all  our  thoughts  and  we  should  talk  of  him  and 
praise  him  all  the  day  along. 

The  husbandman  talks  much  of  the  weather,  because 
all  the  fruit  of  his  labor  depends  upon  his  having  a 
favorable  season.  The  merchant  and  manufacturer 
talk  of  prices,  because  all  their  .income  and  means  of 
support  depend  upon  the  question  whether  prices  shall 
rise  or  fall.  Mariners  on  the  ocean  are  always  talking 
and  thinking  of  the  clouds,  the  sky  and  the  wind, 
because  their  very  life  is  in  the  power  of  the  elements. 
Parents  talk  much  of  their  children,  because  their  hopes, 
their  joys,  their  sorrows,  their  affections  are  bound  up 
with  their  children.  But  we  all  have  more  to  do  with 
God  than  with  any  of  the  things  about  which  men  talk 
so  much  and  so  freely.  And  therefore  it  would  be 
the  most  natural  and  proper  thing  in  the  world  for  us 
to  think  and  talk  more  of  God  than  the  farmer  of  his 
fields,  the  merchant  of  his  goods,  the  mariner  of  the 
deep.  And  everything  around  us  in  this  world  is 
made  by  God  to  remind  us  of  him,  and  to  bind  us  in 
bonds  of  love  and  gratitude  to  our  greatest  Benefactor. 

The  earth  is  full  of  brightness  and  beauty ;  it  echoes 
with  voices  of  music  and  gladness.  And  yet  the  earth 
teaches  us,  in  the  most  solemn  and  impressive  manner, 
that  some  great  wrong  has  been  done  in  this  beautiful 


412  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

house  of  God's  building,  and  that  the  blessed  Father  is 
displeased  with  the  conduct  of  his  children.  The 
whole  creation  groans  and  travails  in  pain  together. 
Storms  rage  with  destructive  violence  and  desolate  the 
fields  while  the  grain  is  green.  Volcanoes  pour  fortli 
their  fiery  flood,  and  the  fruits  of  man's  industry  are 
swept  away  by  the  molten  stream.  The  earthquake 
yawns,  and  whole  cities  are  swallowed  up  or  shaken  to 
the  ground  in  a  moment.  Pestilence  sweeps  with  its 
viewless  wings  over  a  whole  continent,  and  the  habita- 
tions of  millions  are  filled  with  mourning  and  death. 
The  rain  is  withholden,  the  harvest  fails,  and  famine 
comes  as  an  unbidden  guest  to  countless  homes.  The 
nerves  of  our  bodies,  which  were  endued  with  the 
capacity  for  feeling  and  enjoyment,  are  often  set  on  fire 
with  pain.  All  living  creatures  have  the  seeds  of 
death  planted  in  their  vital  constitution.  The  dust 
which  we  tread  beneath  our  feet  once  lived  and  moved 
in  organized  bodies.  We  ourselves  must  soon  return 
to  the  dust  from  which  we  sprang.  .The  whole  earth 
is  one  vast  sepulchre  of  the  countless  dead. 

Now,  all  this  widespread  desolation  in  the  material 
world,  and  the  deeper  and  darker  woe  which  it  inflicts 
upon  man's  thinking  and  sensitive  soul,  are  sent  of 
God  to  show  us  his  displeasure  at  the  violation  of  his 
wise  and  beneficent  laws.  The  voice  of  the  groaning 
creation  is  lifted  up  in  mournful  and  agonizing  pleading 
to  hold  us  back  from  the  self-destruction  which  attends 
the  life  of  sin.  Storms  and  pestilences,  earthquakes 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  413 

and  volcanoes,  famine  and  fever,  headaches  and  heart- 
aches teach  us  that  it  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  disobey  a 
God  of  infinite  love.  He  only  desires  our  happiness, 
and  he  provides  for  it  in  a  thousand  ways  that  we 
never  thank  him  for.  And  when  he  leaves  us  to  suf- 
fer, and  surrounds  us  with  the  woes  of  an  ever-suffering 
and  dying  world,  it  is  only  to  teach  us  that  disobedience 
to  him  is  madness  and  self-destruction.  He  lets  loose 
the  flood  and  fire  and  pestilence  occasionally  and  to  a 
limited  degree,  to  show  us  how  mighty  and  terrible  are 
the  powers  that  will  be  against  us  if  we  do  not  have 
him  for  our  Friend. 

It  makes  us  tremble  when  we  read  in  the  Holy  Word 
that  God  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day.  We  are 
appalled  when  Christ  himself  tells  us  what  portion 
awaits  the  unreclaimed  in  the  world  to  come.  But  the 
experience  and  observation  of  every  day  fully  confirm 
all  that  the  Bible  says  about  God's  displeasure  against 
sin.  The  pains  and  sorrows,  the  disasters  and  deaths 
which  enter  into  the  history  of  every  man's  life,  are  so 
many  loud  and  solemn  voices  declaring  that  the  great 
and  good  Father  is  grieved  and  displeased  by  the  con- 
duct of  those  who  destroy  themselves.  He  desires 
nothing  of  them  so  much  as  their  present  and  everlast- 
ing happiness.  He  has  provided  for  their  well-being 
in  all  the  laws  of  his  kingdom  and  in  all  the  works  of 
his  hands.  Suffering,  whether  of  the  body  or  of  the 
mind,  all  the  miseries  and  calamities  of  this  woe- 
stricken  world,  come  because  man  will  not  choose  God's 


414  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

way  of  happiness.  They  forsake  the  fountain  of 
living  waters,  and  hew  for  themselves  broken  cisterns 
that  can  hold  no  water. 

The  earth  teaches  the  frailty  and  the  mortality  of 
man.  The  great  globe  is  one  universal  grave,  in  which 
all  the  living  generations  of  the  past  lie  buried. 
Wherever  we  go  we  are  walking  upon  the  dust  of  the 
countless  dead.  The  flowers  bloom  only  to  fade.  The 
green  grass,  the  waving  harvests,  the  mighty  forests 
spring  up  from  the  earth  only  to  return  to  the  earth 
again.  Every  living  creature  that  shares  with  us  in 
the  great  mystery  of  life  will  soon  and  certainly  die. 
We  ourselves  must  shortly  take  our  place  with  all  the 
generations  of  the  past.  These  sensitive  bodies  in 
which  our  souls  now  live,  which  we  now  feed  and 
clothe  and  guard  and  keep  with  constant  care,  must 
soon  go  back  to  the  earth,  and  become  no  better  than 
the  dust  which  is  blown  about  by  the  wind  and  trodden 
under  foot  in  the  street. 

But  nobody  believes  that  the  death  of  the  body  will 
be  the  end  of  our  conscious,  responsible  being.  Those 
who  profess  to  think  so  contradict  their  skepticism 
every  day  they  live.  But  where  shall  the  deathless 
soul  find  a  habitation  when  this  earthly  house  of  the 
body  is  dissolved?  What  shall  become  of  this  con- 
science that  rebukes  for  wrong-doing  and  sits  in  judg- 
ment on  the  secret  thought  ?  What  service  shall  be 
found  for  this  memory  that  clings  to  the  past  as  the 
drowning  cling  to  the  weeds  that  hold  them  beneath 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  415 

the  wave  ?  What  prospect  shall  open  for  this  hope 
that  looks  forth  with  infinite  longing  to  the  future? 
What  objects  shall  employ  this  capacity  for  love  that 
must  ever  have  something  to  cling  to  ?  What  glory, 
what  joy  shall  be  set  before  this  lofty  aspiration,  which 
can  never  rest  with  any  present  possession  ?  What  is 
to  become  of  this  deathless,  spiritual  being  when  the 
body  lies  down  in  the  grave  ? 

This  is  the  great  question  which  the  teaching  earth 
cannot  answer.  This  is  the  dark  problem  which 
human  reason  cannot  solve.  The  book  of  divine  reve- 
lation alone  tells  us  that  when  this  earthly  house  of 
the  soul  is  dissolved,  we  may  have  a  building  of  God, 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  ia  the  heavens. 
To  secure  an  admission  into  that  blessed  and  everlasting 
habitation  is  surely  the  great  business  of  life  here. 
All  the  possessions  and  pleasures  of  time  are  valuable 
to  us  mainly  as  a  means  of  preparing  for  the  great 
destiny  of  the  future. 

We  can  have  no  right  ideas  about  the  dignity,  the 
worth,  the  supreme  end  and  purpose  of  our  being  if 
we  disregard  the  one  fact  that  we  are  created  to  live 
for  ever.  This  frail  and  perishable  body  is  only  so 
much  animated  earth.  When  the  soul  leaves  it,  it  will 
be  like  other  dust.  It  is  the  body  that  binds  us  to 
earth  and  time.  When  that  dies,  the  souTs  true  life 
begins.  If  we  live  only  for  this  present  life,  the  bird, 
llie  beast  and  the  worm  will  rebuke  us  for  putting  our- 
selves on  a  level  with  them,  when  God  made  us  to  be 


416  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

heirs  of  immortality.  Our  bodies  will  go  down  to  the 
dust,  deserving  no  more  honor  than  the  body  of  the 
brute,  if  we  do  not  consecrate  them  by  desires  and 
purposes  and  hopes  that  take  hold  on  heaven  and  ever- 
lasting life. 

It  is  well  for  every  man  to  put  these  plain  truths  in 
gome  form  frequently  to  his  own  mind :  "  I  shall  never 
die.  These  faculties  which  I  possess  I  must  cultivate 
for  eternity.  This  property  which  I  own  I  must  use 
in  laying  up  treasure  in  heaven.  This  work  which  I 
am  called  to  do  with  my  hands  or  my  mind  I  will 
accept  as  the  first  lesson  given  me  in  preparing  for 
glory,  honor  and  eternal  life.  This  pain  which  I  suifer, 
this  pleasure  which  I  enjoy,  I  will  so  use  as  to  purify 
my  immortal  spirit  and  make  me  fit  for  the  society  of 
the  world  where  there  is  no  death.  Always  let  me 
remember  that  my  soul,  my  thinking,  feeling,  respon- 
sible self,  can  never  die.  Never  may  I  do  anything 
which  I  shall  wish  undone  ever  so  many  ages  hence." 

The  earth  can  teach  us  in  some  measure  what  value 
the  infinite  God  attaches  to  the  immortal  soul  of  man. 
It  must  be  an  exalted  being  for  whom  God  would  work 
so  many  ages  in  preparing  a  temporary  home ;  on 
whom  he  would  confer  such  vast  riches;  for  whose 
support  he  would  pour  forth  such  abundance;  to 
whose  dominion  he  would  subject  all  other  creatures 
in  this  world.  And  still  more.  This  earth  has  been 
trodden  by  the  blessed  feet  of  the  incarnate  Son  of 
God.  His  voice  of  prayer  has  been  lifted  up  in  its 


EARTH-TEACHINGS.  417 

solitudes.  He  drank  of  its  gushing  springs.  He 
climbed  its  hills  and  mountain  paths.  He  rested 
beneath  the  shade  of  its  trees  and  beside  its  wells  of 
water.  He  went  forth  to  toil  with  its  morning  light. 
He  endured  the  heat  of  its  burning  noon.  He  slept 
under  the  shadow  of  its  night.  The  homes  of  earth 
have  been  comforted  by  his  sympathizing  tears.  The 
dust  of  earth  has  been  consecrated  by  his  sacrificial 
blood.  The  graves  of  earth  have  been  hallowed  by 
his  repose  in  the  tomb.  The  triumph  of  the  soul  over 
the  power  which  destroys  the  body  has  been  demon- 
strated by  his  resurrection  from  the  dead. 

And  in  many  succeeding  ages  the  earth  has  been 
consecrated  by  the  blood  of  martyrs  who  believed  in 
Jesus.  The  prisons  and  caverns  and  solitudes  of  earth 
have  been  made  holy  by  the  faith  of  captives  and 
exiles  who  suffered  for  Jesus.  The  homes  and  treas- 
ures and  toils  and  afflictions  of  earth  have  been 
blessed  by  the  presence  of  those  who  walked  with 
God.  Outcast  and  accursed  as  would  be  this  earth 
if  given  up  to  man's  sin,  it  is  made  holy  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  cross,  and  we  may  present  all  its  riches  and 
resources  as  a  pure  offering  to  God  in  the  name  of 
Jesus.  This  earth  is  visited  by  angels.  It  is  in  con- 
stant communication  with  heaven.  The  daily  prayer 
goes  up  from  millions  of  hearts,  and  the  daily  answer 
of  blessing  comes  down.  Messengers  of  mercy  are 
constantly  coming,  and  the  intelligence  which  they 
carry  back  causes  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels 

2A 


418  EARTH-TEACHINGS. 

All  power  in  the  earth  is  given  unto  the  Son  of  God, 
and  he  will  shortly  subdue  all  things  in  the  earth 
unto  himself. 

In  such  a  world,  consecrated  by  the  cross  of  Christ, 
it  must  be  our  highest  and  happiest  life  to  live  by 
faith  on  the  Son  of  God.  He  is  Head  over  all  things, 
and  the  best  and  noblest  use  we  can  make  of  our  facul- 
ties and  possessions  will  be  to  consecrate  them  to  him. 
He  has  made  the  most  astonishing  sacrifice  in  our  be- 
half, and  he  has  the  right  to  expect  that  nothing  shall 
come  between  our  hearts  and  him.  The  true  great- 
ness and  joy  of  living  must  come  from  living  with  the 
great  destiny  of  a  redeemed  and  immortal  life  ever  in 
view.  All  that  God  has  done  for  the  world  in  creation 
and  redemption  has  been  done  to  draw  our  hearts  to 
him.  We  have  only  to  open  our  ears  to  the  voices 
with  which  he  speaks  to  us  in  his  providence  and  his 
word,  and  we  shall  feel  that  we  have  his  presence  in 
all  the  walks  of  life.  Strength  and  guidance  and  con- 
solation will  be  given  us  in  every  time  of  need.  This 
earthly  pilgrimage  will  be  a  safe  and  happy  journey  to 
a  better  home. 


Lead  me  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  /. — Ps.  Ixi.  2. 


XXL 

THE   HIGH   ROCK. 

HE  divine  law  was  given  to  man  written  by  the 
finger  of  God  upon  tablets  of  stone.   The  re  vela- 

fmf 
V  tion  was  in  the  language  which  God  had  taught 
*? 

in  Paradise,  and  the  writing  was  upon  material 

which  God  made  when  he  made  the  world.  The  prin- 
ciples of  the  law  were  from  everlasting,  and  the  tablet? 
upon  which  it  was  written  were  as  old  as  the  solid  sub- 
stance of  the  globe.  The  holy  place,  where  the  Divine 
voice  spake  and  an  unseen  hand  delivered  the  written 
stone  into  the  hands  of  a  man,  was  a  sanctuary  of 
rocks. 

No  fluted  columns  nor  sculptured  walls,  no  pictured 
dome  nor  long-drawn  aisle,  no  work  of  art  or  of  man's 
device,  adorned  the  awful  scene  of  the  divine  legation. 
The  Ancient  of  Days  was  enthroned  upon  the  rock, 
and  his  temple  was  the  high  place  of  the  hills  when  he 
gathered  the  tribes  around  his  seat  and  gave  forth  laws 
for  the  government  of  the  world.  The  pillars  of  that 
awful  sanctuary  were  splintered  peaks,  heaved  up  by 
the  inner  fires  of  the  earth  and  sculptured  by  the 
storms ;  the  walls  were  naked  crags  rough-hewn  and 


421 


422  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

hoary  with  centuries  of  age ;  the  sky  was  the  dome ; 
the  clouds  hung  their  drapery  around ;  and  when  the 
Divine  Legislator  descended  to  his  throne  of  rock  and 
gaye  forth  his  law  upon  tablets  of  stone,  the  proclama- 
tion was  made  in  mighty  thunderings,  the  mountains 
did  quake  and  the  everlasting  hills  bowed  in  worship. 

From  that  time  forth  the  rock  in  Horeb  became  a 
holy  place  to  all  readers  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the 
sacredness  attached  to  that  ancient  sanctuary  of  the 
mountains  made  without  hands  became  associated  per- 
manently in  devout  minds  with  the  rock.  It  was  only 
the  abuse  of  a  just  and  sacred  feeling  that  led  the  self- 
torturing  ascetic  to  make  his  home  in  a  cave  of  the 
rocks,  and  to  think  it  a  holier  place  than  the  home 
consecrated  by  daily  duty  and  pure  affection.  All 
that  science  has  learned  of  the  laws  of  Nature,  and  all 
that  history  has  recorded  of  the  past,  leads  us  to  look 
with  religious  veneration  upon  the  ancient  rocks. 

The  successive  steps  by  which  God  built  up  a  world, 
and  made  it  habitable  for  man  from  the  dark  and 
formless  void,  are  recorded  upon  the  rocks.  The  strata 
that  go  down  in  orderly  succession  deeper  than  the 
deepest  mine,  and  the  fossil  remains  of  sea-shells  piled 
high  as  the  mountains,  tell  us  all  that  we  know  of  the 
mode  in  which  the  Divine  Architect  lifted  the  present 
beautiful  order  of  hills  and  valleys  and  plains  out  of 
the  deep.  Whoever  would  read  the  creative  work  of 
the  six  unmeasured  days  in  Genesis,  must  study  the 
tablet  stone. 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  423 

Many  of  the  great  and  critical  events  in  the  world's 
history  since  it  became  a  home  for  man  take  us  back 
to  the  munitions  of  the  rocks  and  the  sanctuaries  built 
without  hands.  Many  of  the  most  precious  and  con- 
soling promises  of  divine  revelation  are  set  forth  under 
the  similitude  of  a  rock.  When,  in  a  meditative  mood, 
we  look  upon  a  great  rock  old  as  the  centuries,  or  upon 
a  humble  memorial  stone  set  up  by  human  hands,  we 
are  reminded  of  truths  and  scenes  and  events  that  stir 
our  hearts  with  the  most  profound  and  sacred  emotion. 
It  is,  therefore,  entirely  proper  and  natural  that  we 
should  still  try  to  draw  living  streams  of  divine 
instruction  from  the  rock,  both  in  its  literal  and  sym- 
bolical character,  even  as  Moses  brought  refreshing 
waters  for  the  thirsty  tribes  from  the  rock  in  Horeb. 
And  every  line  of  truth,  followed  up  to  its  true  source, 
will  lead  us  to  the  Rock  of  Ages. 

There  is  much  to  be  said  of  the  rock  or  common 
stone  as  a  sacred  memorial.  When  Jacob  journeyed 
from  Beersheba  to  Padan-aram,  he  lighted  upon  a 
solitary  place  as  the  shadows  of  evening  gathered  round 
him,  and  he  laid  down  for  the  night  to  sleep,  with  the 
heavens  for  a  covering,  and  the  bare  earth  for  a  bed, 
and  the  rough  stones  of  the  roadside  for  a  pillow. 
And  there  he  dreamed  that  a  shining  pathway  rose 
from  earth  to  heaven  in  his  sight,  and  angels  were 
coming  and  going  as  multitudes  meet  and  pass  on  the 
crowded  street.  Above,  was  the  glory  of  Jehovah,  and 
the  voice  which  called  to  Abraham  out  of  heaven 


424  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

called  to  him  with  words  of  promise  and  protection. 
When  the  lonely  wanderer  waked  out  of  sleep,  and 
rose  up  early  in  the  morning  to  renew  his  journey,  it 
Heemed  to  him  that  the  vision  of  the  night  had  made 
the  solitary  place  the  house  of  God  and  the  gate  of 
heaven.  And  there  he  set  up  a  memorial  stone,  to 
remind  him  in  subsequent  years  of  the  night  when  the 
Lord  God  of  his  fathers  Abraham  and  Isaac  met  him 
in  the  way  to  Padan-aram.  And  when  he  returned 
with  great  riches  to  the  land  of  his  inheritance,  he 
sought  out  the  place  of  that  anointed  stone,  and  there 
he  set  up  an  altar  to  the  God  that  answered  him  in  the 
day  of  his  distress.  And  from  that  time  forth  the 
tenth  of  all  he  had  he  gave  to  God. 

This  is  the  true  way  for  men  to  make  holy  places  in 
all  time  and  in  all  the  earth.  Let  them  commemorate 
the  hour  when  God  met  them  in  their  wanderings 
with  messages  of  peace.  And  it  would  be  well  for  all 
who  make  good  promises  in  the  time  of  trouble  and 
distress  to  set  up  a  memorial  of  their  vows  and  to  keep 
the  covenant  made  in  affliction  ever  before  them  in  the 
day  of  prosperity.  It  were  better  that  all  our  good 
promises  made  in  our  best  or  darkest  moments 
should  be  graven  with  a  pen  of  iron  and  in  the  rock 
for  ever,  than  that  they  should  be  forgotten  when  the 
world  surrounds  us  with  its  temptations  and  this 
earthly  life  promises  all  that  we  want. 

It  were  well  for  us  all  to  set  up  a  sacred  memorial 
of  the  time  of  distress  and  agony,  when  we  offered  up 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  425 

the  prayer,  "  Oh  God,  deliver  me  from  going  down  to 
the  grave,"  and  the  prayer  was  heard  ;  of  the  time 
when  poverty  came  upon  us  like  an  armed  man,  and 
we  vowed,  if  ever  prosperity  should  return,  to  give  the 
tenth  of  all  our  gains  to  God ;  of  the  time  when  4ie 
Spirit  touched  our  hearts  and  we  had  great  joy  and 
peace  in  our  souls,  and  we  were  ready  to  answer  to 
every  call  of  duty,  " Lord,  here  am  I;  send  me." 

All  have  remembrances  of  times  when  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  was  brought  very  nigh,  and  it  seemed  au 
easy  and  a  blessed  thing  to  enter.  All  have  been  met 
in  the  journey  of  life  by  special  providences  of  the 
Almighty  God,  even  as  Jacob  was  addressed  by  the 
Divine  voice  at  Bethel.  All  have  resolved,  in  mo- 
ments of  tender  feeling  and  awakened  conscience,  to 
lead  better  lives  and  to  walk  more  closely  with  God. 
Let  a  memorial  of  such  hours  and  experiences  be  kept 
freshly  in  mind,  as  if  you  had  graven  them  upon  stone 
and  set  them  in  your  habitation  to  be  ever  before  you. 
Go  back  to  the  best  hour  you  ever  had  in  all  your  life, 
and  take  it  up  and  bear  it  with  you  in  the  future,  as 
the  wind  bears  the  cloud  and  the  cloud  bears  the  rain. 
Let  the  promise  which  pain  and  poverty  or  peace  and 
pardon  drew  from  your  trembling  heart  be  the  memo- 
rial of  past  mercies  and  the  watchword  of  duty  in  the 
future.  And  so  from  all  your  wanderings  you  shall 
come  back  to  a  holier  sanctuary  than  Jacob  found  at 
Bethel,  and  to  a  greater  inheritance  than  his  posterity 
possessed  in  the  land  of  Canaan. 


426  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

And  tliis  custom  of  preserving  sacred  memorials  of 
the  past  is  as  appropriate  and  profitable  to  communities 
and  nations  as  to  individuals.  The  people  that  have 
no  history  can  have  no  power.  The  people  that  forget 
the  past  and  dishonor  the  ashes  of  their  fathers,  will 
leave  nothing  for  others  to  remember  when  they  are 
gone.  The  earth  to  which  the  martyrs  of  truth  and 
liberty  have  given  their  blood  is  holy  ground.  Pil- 
grims from  far-distant  lands  go  there  to  weep  and  to 
kindle  the  fire  of  feelings  and  purposes  with  which 
they  inflame  the  world.  The  dungeon  where  the  per- 
secuted prisoner  has  for  years  trodden  the  length  of  his 
chain  backward  and  forward,  until  his  bare  feet  have 
worn  a  path  in  the  cold  stone,  becomes  a  sanctuary 
and  the  damp  floor  an  altar,  and  every  mark  upon  the 
rocky  pavement  and  mouldering  wall  appeals  from 
earth  to  heaven,  from  man  to  God. 

When  Joshua,  the  captain  of  the  conquering  tribes 
of  Israel,  had  reached  a  good  old  age  and  was  about  to 
die,  he  gathered  the  chief  men  of  the  nation  under  an 
oak  that  stood  beside  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord  in 
Shechem.  There  he  took  a  great  stone  and  set  it  up 
under  the  tree,  and  over  it  he  rehearsed  God's  marvel- 
ous dealings  with  the  nation  in  bringing  them  out  of 
Egypt  and  giving  them  the  goodly  land  of  Palestine. 
There  he  made  them  renew  their  solemn  covenant  to 
put  away  all  strange  gods  and  to  serve  the  Lord  alone 
for  ever.  Then  he  said,  "  Behold,  this  stone  shall  be  a 
witness  unto  us.  For  it  hath  heard  all  the  words  of 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  427 

the  Lord  which  he  spake  unto  us.  It  shall  therefore 
be  a  witness  unto  you,  lest  ye  deny  your  God."  ]t 
would  have  been  well  for  Israel  in  after  years  if  they 
had  gathered  oftener  beneath  the  shade  of  that  sacred 
oak  in  Shechera  and  listened  to  the  dumb  testimony  of 
that  witnessing  stone  against  all  their  departures  from 
the  living  God. 

The  great  conflicts  and  mighty  sorrows  and  unut- 
tered  joys  through  which  individuals  and  nations  are 
carried  forward  in  the  path  of  light  and  salvation  are 
things  to  be  remembered.  They  are  lessons  which  cost 
too  much  to  be  often  repeated  or  soon  forgotten.  The 
memorial  which  binds  us  to  the  great  heroisms  and 
mighty  sacrifices  of  the  past  is  a  promise  of  better 
things  in  the  future.  Every  nation  that  stands  for  the 
defence  of  the  right  and  the  truth  must  have  a  history 
of  conflicts  and  sacrifices.  Every  free  and  consecrated 
land  must  have  many  stones  of  witness,  rocks  of  testi- 
mony, over  which  the  people  should  remember  and 
rehearse  the  dealings  of  God's  providence  with  their 
fathers  in  the  days  of  darkness  and  conflict. 

In  our  own  land  there  are  stones  that  heard  the  roar 
of  battle  and  the  shout  of  charging  hosts  when  the 
genius  of  American  freedom  walked  upon  the  high 
places  of  the  field,  and  her  voice  was  heard  in  thunder 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  There  are  hoary  rocks  that 

"  Keep  watch  by  the  bed  of  the  glorious  dead, 
With  the  solemn  stars  at  night." 

There  are  cliffs  above  the  clouds,  and  caves  among  the 


428  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

hills,  and  defiles  among  the  mountains,  where  men 
died  the  death  of  martyrdom  for  their  country.  And 
it  is  due  to  their  valor  and  their  devotion  that  the  me- 
morial of  their  deeds  should  be  written  with  a  pen  of 
iron  in  the  rock  for  ever.  And  if  ever  the  nation 
should  forget  its  high  calling  to  keep  the  ark  of  truth 
and  liberty  safe  and  sacred  for  the  world,  then  the 
rocks  that  heard  the  last  prayer  of  the  martyred  dead, 
and  the  stones  of  the  field  where  men  bled  for  their 
country,  will  cry  out  in  indignation. 

The  rocks  have  ever  been  a  refuge  for  the  exiled  and 
persecuted  benefactors  of  mankind.  When  David  fled 
from  the  face  of  the  demon-haunted  Saul,  he  sought  a 
hiding-place  in  the  rocks.  When  Jezebel  had  sworn  to 
make  the  life  of  Elijah  a  sacrifice  to  her  heathen  gods 
within  twenty-four  hours,  the  prophet  hurried  in  wild 
dismay,  day  and  night,  over  the  whole  length  of  the  Ara- 
bian desert,  until  he  had  hidden  himself  in  the  rock  of 
Horeb.  When  the  Son  of  God  appeared  on  earth  for 
the  redemption  of  the  world,  the  first  shelter  of  his 
feeble  infancy  was  found  in  a  cave  of  the  rocks.  When 
the  early  Christians  were  hunted  down  like  wild  beasts, 
they  made  for  themselves  homes  and  sanctuaries  in  the 
rocks  of  the  mountains  and  in  stony  excavations  be- 
neath the  surface  of  the  ground. 

So  the  rocks  have  many  times  afforded  a  refuge  for 
men  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy.  In  times  of 
darkness  and  peril  the  instructors  and  benefactors  of 
mankind  have  been  found  in  caverns  and  dungeons 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  429 

more  frequently  than  in  palaces.  The  rough  work  of 
pulling  men  out  of  the  fire  and  saving  them  has  not 
ordinarily  been  done  in  silken  robes  nor  with  strict 
attention  to  the  refinements  of  taste.  Rude  John  Bun- 
yan  sent  forth  a  voice  from  Bedford  jail  which  has 
compassed  the  earth  in  many  languages  and  directed 
millions  of  pilgrims  on  their  way  to  the  Heavenly  City. 
In  the  rocky  chamber  of  the  Wartburg,  Martin  Luther 
translated  the  Bible  into  his  native  tongue,  the  rude 
and  strong  speech  which  he  learned  in  the  miner's  cot- 
tage under  the  shadow  of  the  Thuringian  forest ;  and, 
putting  that  wild  torchlight  into  peasants'  hands,  he 
scattered  the  darkness  of  ignorance  and  superstition 
and  awoke  all  Europe  from  the  sleep  of  ages.  In  the 
rocky  cave  of  Bethlehem,  Jerome  transferred  the  an- 
cient Scriptures  into  the  living  Latin  of  his  time,  and 
so  gave  utterance  to  the  word  of  God  for  the  millions 
of  the  world-embracing  Roman  empire.  Paul  is  be- 
lieved by  many  to  have  sent  forth  from  the  rocky  dun- 
geon of  the  Mamertine  prison  those  great  words  of  faith 
and  victory  which  for  eighteen  hundred  years  have 
nerved  martyrs  at  the  stake  and  opened  heaven  to  the 
vision  of  the  dying.  The  forerunner  of  Christ  cried 
in  the  desert,  and  sent  forth  a  warning  voice  from  the 
rocks  of  the  wilderness,  which  awakened  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Jewish  people  renewed  expectations  of  their 
coming  Messiah. 

And  so  always,  in  the  great  eras  of  history,  the  in- 
structors and  benefactors  of  mankind  have  been  ban- 


430  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

ished  and  imprisoned,  and  the  world  has  been  indebted 
to  caverns  and  dungeons  for  voices  which  have  arrested 
its  own  progress  in  the  pathway  of  ruin.  If  you  would 
go  back  to  the  starting-point  of  great  truths  and  mighty 
reformations,  you  must  stand  with  the  shivering  band 
of  pilgrims  on  the  bare  rock  of  an  ice-bound  coast ; 
you  must  worship  with  hunted  fugitives  in  the  glens 
and  caverns  of  wild  mountains ;  you  must  look  for 
Galileo  and  Bunyan  and  Bonnivard  in  the  gloom  of 
the  dungeon ;  you  must  go  down  into  the  chamber  of 
horrors  and  see  men  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance 
that  they  may  be  faithful  to  the  truth  ;  you  must  thread 
the  subterranean  galleries  of  the  Catacombs,  and  hear 
the  cheerful  songs  of  men  who  must  hide  themselves 
in  the  earth  because  they  would  be  faithful  to  their 
Master  in  heaven  ;  you  must  stand  in  the  bloody  arena 
and  see  men  torn  in  pieces  by  wild  beasts,  while  the 
applause  of  a  hundred  thousand  spectators  rises  hoarse 
and  horrible  as  the  roar  of  the  deep  upon  a  rocky 
shore.  To  such  sources  must  we  trace  the  streams  that 
now  carry  healing  and  salvation  round  the  earth.  The 
new  day  of  light  and  liberty  has  been  ushered  in  by 
men  who  were  compelled  to  wander  in  deserts  and 
mountains  and  to  seek  homes  in  dens  and  caves  of 
the  earth.  If  we  have  reason  to  hope  for  better  things 
in  the  future,  it  is  simply  because  some  have  been 
found  ready  to  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things  for  the 
testimony  of  Jesus  in  the  past.  When  the  sea  shall 
give  up  its  dead  in  the  final  day,  and  deserts  shall 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  431 

bear  witness  to  the  sufferings  and  prayers  of  Christian 
exiles,  it  will  be  seen  that  many  times  in  the  world's 
history  truth  found  its  only  refuge  in  the  sanctuary 
of  the  mountains  and  the  munitions  of  the  rocks. 

It  is  said  in  the  Scriptures  of  a  good  king  that  he 
should  be  as  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind  and  a 
covert  from  the  tempest.  Such  men  are  the  kings  for 
conscience'  sake,  monarchs  and  martyrs  in  the  imperial 
realm  of  truth — men  who  would  rather  die  than  do 
wrong.  One  such  man  is  a  covert  from  the  tempest 
for  millions.  It  is  such  kings  of  righteousness  that 
stand  as  rock-built  lighthouses  on  the  great  deep  of 
human  passion  to  guide  all  wanderers  in  the  safe  way. 

There  is  a  lighthouse,  well  known  to  navigators  of 
the  British  Channel,  standing  in  so  peculiarly  exposed 
a  situation  that  none  can  fail  to  wonder  how  it  keeps 
its  place.  After  a  storm  has  ceased,  and  there  is  not 
the  slightest  breeze  to  ruffle  the  face  of  the  deep,  so 
strong  is  the  ground  swell  of  the  sea  against  the  base 
of  the  structure  that  the  waves  dash  up  with  a  tremen- 
dous roar  to  the  full  height  of  the  tower,  and  envelop 
the  topmost  light  in  a  canopy  of  foam.  And  when  the 
tempest  is  abroad  in  its  wrath,  and  the  ship  flies  before 
the  fury  of  the  storm,  and  eager  watchers  are  waiting 
the  wreck  on  the  shore,  then  the  remorseless  deep,  as  if 
enraged  against  the  beacon-light  which  disappoints  it 
of  its  prey  by  warning  the  mariner  of  the  fatal  rock, 
dashes  with  a  still  mighter  force  and  louder  thunder 
against  that  strong-built  tower  to  bury  it  beneath  the 


432  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

waves.  And  so,  night  and  day,  summer  and  winter, 
for  more  than  a  hundred  years,  the  great  deep,  with 
all  its  force  of  wind  and  waves,  in  breeze  and  gale  and 
storm,  has  been  mining  at  the  foundations  and  storm- 
ing at  the  battlements  of  that  beacon  in  vain.  It  falls 
not,  for  it  is  founded  upon  a  rock.  The  lonely  light- 
keeper,  confident  in  the  tried  strength  of  the  column 
by  which  his  narrow  chamber  is  supported,  sleeps  sound 
while  the  storm  roars  around  him  and  the  multitude  of 
the  billows  lift  up  their  voices  on  high.  And  the  mari- 
ner, returning  from  his  long  voyage  to  the  most  distant 
lands  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  as  confidently 
expects  to  see  the  light  of  that  still  shining  beacon  as 
he  does  to  recognize  the  hills  and  shores  of  his  native 
land  rising  to  view  from  the  waste  of  waters. 

So  stands  the  righteous  man  resting  upon  the  eternal 
rock  of  God's  truth — a  guide  and  a  covert  to  many 
others  amid  the  war  of  opinion  and  the  tempests  of 
passion  with  which  the  earth  is  shaken.  It  is  only 
because  God  has  given  the  world  such  men  in  the  past 
that  we  have  peace  in  our  time  and  the  hope  of  better 
things  for  the  future/'  And  nothing  is  so  worthy  of 
the  loftiest  and  purest  ambition  of  the  human  heart  as 
to  be  able  to  stand  firm  as  a  rock  when  the  strong- 
holds of  truth  are  assailed  by  many  foes  and  the  sacred 
interests  of  humanity  are  endangered  by  false  or  feeble 
friends. 

A  lonely,  rocky  headland  standing  out  from  the 
Grampian  Hills  in  Scotland  is  called  Crag  Ellachie, 


THE  HIGH  ROCK.  4J3 

The  Clan  Grant,  whose  turf  cottages  are  in  sight  of  its 
hoary  head,  have  adopted  for  their  war-cry,  "Stand 
fast,  Crag  Ellachie !"  The  wild  warriors  of  the  hill? 
serving  in  the  armies  of  England  have  carried  that 
cry  around  the  world.  And  every  time  it  runs  along 
the  line  in  making  the  terrible  charge  or  resisting  the 
fierce  attack,  the  brave  Highlanders  assume  to  them- 
selves the  steadfastness  of  the  rock  which  looks  down 
upon  their  own  homes.  The  remembrance  of  that 
rugged  and  storm-beaten  crag  has  nerved  the  heart  of 
the  Scottish  soldier  when  shivering  in  the  icy  wind 
of  the  North  or  fainting  in  the  noonday  heat  of  tropical 
climes.  Wherever  the  hour  of  peril  finds  him,  and  his 
thoughts  wander  away  to  the  home  of  his  childhood, 
the  cry  comes  from  that  hoary  rock,  "Stand  fast!" 
And  so  from  all  the  defenders  of  the  truth  in  all  time 
there  comes  to  us  in  the  hour  of  trial  and  temptation 
the  cry,  "  Stand  fast !"  The  example  of  their  constancy 
rises  up  amid  all  the  conflicts  of  the  past,  like  the 
rocky  headland  facing  the  storm  or  holding  the  beacon 
on  the  shore  of  the  sea.  Let  us  assume  the  strength 
of  their  faith  and  courage  while  we  take  up  the  cry 
that  comes  to  us  from  far-distant  ages,  and  give  it  new 
life  and  power  by  our  fidelity,  as  we  pass  it  on  to  all 
the  tried  and  tempted — "  Stand  fast !" 

In  the  Sacred  Scriptures  the  rocks  are  the  symbol 
of  rest  for  the  weary  and  of  salvation  for  the  soul. 
In  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  the  Eock  of  Ages.  When  the 
tribes  of  Israel  were  ready  to  perish  of  thirst  in  the 

2B 


434  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

desert,  the  waters  that  saved  them  came  forth  from  the 
smitten  rock.  The  loftiest  hymns  of  praise  which 
were  written  for  the  people  of  God  by  inspired  proph- 
ets and  psalmists  in  ancient  time  exult  in  the  Lord 
Jehovah  as  the  Rock  of  Salvation.  In  all  his  troubles 
and  perils,  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  always  rejoiced 
when  he  remembered  the  Eock  of  his  strength  and 
refuge  in  God. 

This  language  becomes  still  more  sacred  and  signifi- 
cant to  us  when  we  look  to  Christ  as  the  Rock  of  Ages. 
In  times  of  affliction  and  discouragement  we  all  feel 
that  our  life  is  a  pilgrimage  through  a  waste  in  which 
there  is  much  want  and  many  sorrows.  And  we  never 
know  what  it  is  to  feel  secure  and  at  rest  until  we  find 
in  Christ  a  hiding-place  from  the  wind  and  a  covert 
from  the  tempest — until  we  flee  to  him  as  the  traveler 
flees  to  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land. 

I  remember  the  description  of  one  who  learned  to 
attach  a  new  meaning  to  the  prophet's  words  from  his 
own  experience  in  the  wilds  of  Southern  Africa.  The 
fierce  sun  of  noon  poured  down  its  scorching  beams 
upon  a  treeless,  herbless,  lifeless  waste.  His  feet  sank 
in  the  burning  sand  as  he  walked.  He  looked  in  every 
direction  for  something  to  protect  him  from  the  insup- 
portable heat.  The  least  motion  of  the  air  felt  like  a 
blast  of  flame  against  his  face.  The  waste  of  sand 
seemed  like  a  sea  of  fire,  and  he  grew  faint  and  giddy 
with  gazing  upon  its  glimmering  light.  At  length  he 
saw  a  great  rock  leaning  against  the  face  of  a  still 


THE  HIGH  ROCK  435 

higher  cliff,  leaving  a  sheltered  spot  of  cool  earth 
between  the  two.  With  all  his  remaining  strength  hb 
fled  for  refuge  to  the  offered  shade.  In  addition  to  the 
protection  of  the  rocky  canopy,  he  found  a  cooling 
spring  of  water  beneath.  When  he  had  slaked  his 
thirst  and  reclined  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  great 
crag,  he  was  prepared,  Christian  as  he  was,  to  sing 
with  such  fervor  as  never  before — 

"  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee.' 

Christ  is  the  Eock  of  Ages,  to  whom  all  weary, 
thirsty,  wandering  souls  are  invited  to  come  for  rest. 
No  floods  or  storms  can  carry  away  that  safe  and  sure 
retreat.  Amid  all  the  changes  and  agitations  of  the 
world  the  Eock  of  our  salvation  stands  firm.  It  has 
been  beaten  upon  by  the  tempests  of  war ;  it  has  been 
assailed  by  the  combined  hosts  of  earth  and  hell ;  busy 
hands  have  been  laboring  for  centuries  to  dig  up  its 
foundations.  But  the  Eock  of  Ages  stands  to-day, 
amid  all  the  wastes  and  conflicts  of  the  world,  offering 
rest  to  the  weary  and  the  water  of  life  to  the  perishing. 
Never  before  were  the  reasons  for  trusting  in  Christ  so 
many  and  so  strong  as  they  are  to-day.  Never  before 
was  it  so  hard  for  any  man  to  excuse  himself  for  not 
being  a  Christian.  Among  all  the  powers  of  the  earth 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  is  steadily  advancing  to  its 
supreme  and  universal  dominion.  From  all  the  dis- 
coveries of  science,  from  all  the  achievements  of  art, 


436  THE  HIGH  ROCK. 

from  all  the  stores  of  literature,  from  all  the  resources 
of  industry,  Christ  is  gathering  trophies  to  increase  the 
splendor  of  his  many  crowns.  From  the  most  pro- 
found experiences  of  the  human  soul ;  from  the  dark- 
ness and  misery  of  unbelief  and  from  the  light  and 
glory  of  faith,  Christ  is  ever  gathering  confirmations 
of  his  power  to  save.  The  great  joy  of  life,  when  Hie 
is  spent  in  doing  good,  and  the  complete  victory  over 
death,  when  death  is  met  in  the  strength  of  Christ, 
prove  him  to  be  a  sufficient  help  in  all  our  utmost 
need. 


C|)e  faint  Int. 


The  righteous  shaft  flourish  like  the  palm-tree. — Ps.  xcii.  12. 


XXII. 

THE  PALM  TREE. 

F  all  the  trees  of  the  Bible,  the  cedar  and  the 
palm  stand  pre-eminent  and  alone.  Both  are 
sacred  as  the  stones  of  the  altar  and  the  incense 
of  the  offering.  Both  are  useful  as  the  house 
that  shelters  the  homeless  and  the  bread  that  feeds  the 
hungry.  Both  stand  for  the  most  exalted  ideas  of 
beauty,  strength,  virtue  and  immortality. 

When  God  had  crushed  the  pride  of  Egypt  and  led 
his  chosen  people  out  of  bondage  with  a  high  hand, 
the  emancipated  tribes  made  their  first  encampment  on 
the  grand  march  to  the  promised  land  under  the  shadow 
of  palms.  And  in  all  the  subsequent  ages  of  their  his- 
tory as  a  nation  they  kept  the  great  feast  of  the  Taber- 
nacles in  commemoration  of  the  night  when  their  fathers 
rested  from  their  first  day's  march  under  tents  of  palm 
trees  at  Succoth.  The  deliverance  of  the  Israelites  from 
Egypt  was  the  beginning  of  a  moral  revolution  des- 
tined to  roll  in  waves  of  light  and  liberty  over  the 
v.hole  earth.  The  spreading  branches  of  the  tree  that 
crowned  the  victor  in  the  hour  of  triumph  were  the 
first  and  fittest  covering  for  the  people  whose  career 

439 


440  THE  PALM  TREE. 

of  conquest  should  extend  through  all  time  and  em- 
brace all  nations. 

When  the  sea  was  passed  over,  and  the  great  host 
had  gone  three  days'  march  into  the  desert — when  the 
bitter  waters  of  Marah  were  made  sweet  and  the  people 
had  learned  to  live  by  every  word  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Lord — it  was  fitting  again  that  they  should  rest 
under  the  palms  of  Elim  and  drink  of  the  fountains 
that  flowed  beneath  their  shade — twelve  springs  for 
the  twelve  tribes,  and  seventy  palms  for  the  seventy 
elders  of  Israel,  that  every  division  of  the  great  host 
in  their  subsequent  numberings  might  believe  itself  to 
be  named  and  counted  in  God's  book  of  life.  And 
ever  since  that  day  the  palms  and  the  fountains  of 
Elim  have  stood  forth  in  the  vision  of  faith  as  the  pic- 
ture and  the  promise  of  rest. 

So  is  it  with  us  all  in  our  pilgrimage  to  the  heavenly 
Zion,  whether  it  be  a  journey  of  forty  years  or  of  four- 
score. First,  is  the  wandering  in  the  desert  of  a  self- 
seeking  and  a  disobedient  life,  in  which  the  soul  can 
nnd  no  rest ;  then  the  bitter  waters  of  the  world,  of 
which  we  cannot  drink ;  then  sweet  repose  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Almighty  and  beside  fountains  that 
spring  up  into  eternal  life.  When,  therefore,  the  way 
seems  long,  and  your  path  lies  through  a  desert,  and 
the  springs  that  you  find  on  the  way  are  bitter  to  your 
taste,  you  have  only  to  look  forward  with  the  vision  of 
faith  and  you  will  see  the  palms  of  Elim  waving  you 
on  with  invitations ;  you  have  only  to  press  forward 


THE  PALM  TREE.  441 

and  you  will  soon  rest  beneath  their  shade  and  drink 
of  sweet  fountains. 

When  the  tribes  of  Israel  had  finished  their  wan- 
derings in  the  wilderness,  they  crossed  the  Jordan  and 
began  the  conquest  of  the  promised  land  with  the  City 
of  Palms.  The  miraculous  manna  of  the  desert  was  no 
longer  supplied  to  sustain  the  host  when  once  they  had 
tasted  the  fruit  of  the  palm  on  the  plains  of  Jericho. 
Thus  the  peril  and  the  sorrow,  the  triumph  and  the 
joy  in  the  early  history  of  the  chosen  people,  were 
kept  alive  in  the  memory  of  their  posterity  by  the 
living  monument  of  the  palm.  "Whenever  they  saw  its 
graceful  branches  waving  in  the  valley  of  the  Jordan 
or  on  the  hillsides  around  Jerusalem,  they  were  re- 
minded of  the  day  when  the  Lord  went  before  their 
fathers  through  the  waters  of  the  sea  and  the  wilds  of 
the  desert,  and  brought  them  safe  to  the  land  of  their 
possession.  Every  year,  at  the  great  national  feast  of 
the  Tabernacles,  the  covering  shade  of  the  palm  re- 
minded them  that  they  were  a  providential  people,  and 
that  their  prosperity  must  depend  upon  their  keeping 
faith  in  their  fathers'  God. 

We  see  not  the  Hand  which  is  guiding  us,  as  Israel 
saw  the  pillar  of  the  cloud  and  the  fire ;  we  hear  not 
the  Voice  which  spoke  to  them  from  the  holy  oracle. 
But  we  have  only  to  look  and  to  listen,  and  we  shall  be 
satisfied  that  the  great  Shepherd  of  Israel  has  been 
leading  us  all  the  way  in  the  past,  and  the  path  of  the 
future  will  be  safe  to  all  that  follow  him. 


142  THE  PALM  TREE. 

In  the  stormy  days  of  disaster  and  conflict,  when 
there  was  no  king  in  the  land,  a  queenly  woman,  by 
the  simple  force  of  her  individual  character,  judged 
the  tribes  of  Israel,  and  her  seat  of  power  and  palace 
of  justice  was  a  solitary  palm  tree  on  the  hills  of 
Ephraim.  She  gathered  the  elders  of  the  people  for 
counsel  under  the  green  canopy  of  its  widespreading 
leaves.  Sitting  beside  that  living  sceptre  of  kingly 
command  and  prophetic  authority,  she  justified  the 
innocent  and  condemned  the  guilty.  From  that  high 
sanctuary  of  the  palm  she  sent  forth  a  captain  of  the 
Lord's  host  whose  name  was  Lightning,  and  who  fell 
like  a  thunderbolt  from  the  top  of  Tabor  upon  the 
armies  of  Jabin  and  Sisera  in  the  battle-plain  of 
Esdraelon. 

Of  all  the  trees  of  the  Holy  Land,  the  palm  alone 
was  sufficiently  identified  with  the  sacred  history  and 
religious  faith  of  the  Jewish  people  to  be  carved  with 
cherubim  and  overlaid  with  gold  in  the  temple  of  Solo- 
mon. The  devout  Hebrew  who  came  to  worship  in 
the  holy  place  approached  the  temple  gates  between 
lofty  pillars  whose  capitals  were  wreathed  with  palms. 
He  bathed  his  hands  in  water  from  a  fountain  of 
moulded  palms.  He  passed  through  doors  of  fir  tree 
whose  panels  were  raised  and  figured  with  the  carved 
fruit  of  the  palm.  He  looked  up  to  the  lofty  roof  and 
he  saw  a  canopy  of  branching  palms.  He  passed  the 
inner  doors  of  the  holy  oracle,  and  he  saw  everywhere 
the  sheltering  palm  and  the  shining  cherubim  in- 


THE  PALM  TREE.  443 

I 

wrought  with  open  flowers  and  overlaid  with  gold. 
When  the  prophet  Ezekiel  saw  in  vision  the  restored 
temple,  which  was  to  be  a  sanctuary  for  all  nations  and 
for  all  time,  the  palm  and  the  cherubim  were  still 
there,  graven  upon  the  doors  and  the  walls  from  the 
ground  upward  and  through  all  the  house.  The  tree 
which  stands  for  the  righteous  men  of  earth  was  carved 
side  by  side  with  the  holy  ones  of  heaven,  thus  pre- 
figuring the  word  of  Christ,  that  those  who  follow  him 
shall  be  equal  unto  the  angels. 

When  Jesus  sought  repose  from  the  crowded  streets 
and  the  clamorous  scribes  of  Jerusalem,  he  went  out  to 
the  eastern  slope  of  Olivet  and  rested  at  Bethany — the 
house  of  palms.  That  village  home  on  the  mountain- 
side where  the  Son  of  God  was  drawn  by  loving  hearts, 
and  where  he  was  entertained  by  willing  hands,  re- 
ceived its  name  from  the  fruit  that  grew  by  the  foun- 
tains of  Elim  and  on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan.  The 
palms  are  gone  from  the  paths  of  Olivet.  Uncertain 
tradition  alone  points  to  a  heap  of  ruins  as  the  house 
of  Lazarus.  But  the  memory  of  Jesus  in  the  home  of 
Martha  and  of  Mary  has  made  Bethany  a  name  of 
blessing  for  all  lands  and  for  all  time.  To  this  day  we 
can  wish  nothing  better  for  any  home  than  that  it  may 
receive  the  Divine  Guest  who  reposed  in  the  village  of 
palms  on  the  slope  of  Olivet. 

When  Jesus  came  in  triumph  to  Jerusalem,  and  the 
rejoicing  multitude  went  forth  to  welcome  their  King, 
they  strewed  his  path  with  the  palms  that  crown  the 


444  THE  PALM  TREE. 

conqueror,  and  they  cried,  "  Hosanna !  Blessed  is  lie 
that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord."  When  the 
King  of  glory  had  submitted  to  the  agony  of  the  cross 
and  the  gloom  of  the  grave,  he  ascended  to  his  hea- 
venly throne  while  walking  with  his  disciples  along 
the  palm-girt  path  in  the  way  to  Bethany.  The 
boughs  that  crown  the  victor  waved  their  homage  as 
he  went  up,  and  the  silvery  light  of  the  cloud  that  re- 
ceived him  out  of  their  sight  shone  back  upon  their 
wondering  eyes  through  the  trembling  branches  of  the 
palm.  We  are  not  surprised  therefore  to  be  told  by 
the  beloved  disciple  that  when  in  the  vision  of  heaven 
he  saw  a  great  multitude  of  the  redeemed  of  earth 
before  the  throne,  they  waved  palm  branches  in  their 
hands  as  they  led  the  choir  of  angels  in  ascribing 
glory  and  victory  unto  God  and  the  Lamb  for  ever 
and  ever. 

The  name  given  to  the  palm  in  Bible  lands  sig- 
nifies standing  erect  like  a  column,  shooting  upward 
like  a  fountain,  rising  heavenward  like  a  flame.  And 
this  describes  the  most  striking  aspect  of  the  tree 
wherever  it  is  seen  in  all  the  earth.  It  draws  atten- 
tion in  the  distance  by  its  tall,  straight,  column- like 
trunk  and  its  surmounting  crown  of  luxuriant  and 
graceful  foliage.  Its  bright,  feathery  branches  waving 
in  the  wind  seem  in  the  distance  as  delicate  and  as 
graceful  as  the  plumes  of  the  bird  of  Paradise.  They 
never  trail  in  the  dust  like  the  drooping  boughs  of  tho 
willow.  They  never  lean  for  support,  they  never  i**" 


THE  PALM  TREE.  443 

terlace  with  the  limbs  of  other  trees,  like  the  ivy. 
They  are  never  burdened  and  broken  down,  like  the 
oak,  with  the  weight  of  climbing  vines.  They  are 
never  defaced  with  moss  or  mildew.  The  palm  always 
rises  pre-eminent  above  the  rank  and  noxious  vegeta- 
tion of  the  marsh  or  stagnant  pool,  while  it  basks  in 
the  same  sunshine  and  derives  support  from  the  same 
soil.  Amid  all  the  trees  of  the  wood,  the  palm  stands 
alone — tall,  pure,  ever  stretching  heavenward  with  its 
yearly  growth.  It  rejoices  in  the  sunlight  when  the 
skies  are  clear,  and  it  smiles  on  the  clouds  when  the 
skies  are  dark.  Its  long,  flexible  boughs  wave  to  and 
fro  and  shiver  in  the  storm,  but  the  column-like  trunk 
stands  firm  as  a  pillar  of  stone.  Alone  in  the  desert 
and  beside  the  water-courses  of  the  wilderness,  it  stands 
like  a  sentinel  to  guard  the  silent  mountains  by  day 
and  to  watch  the  solemn  stars  by  night.  Rising  above 
all  other  vegetation  proudly  eminent,  the  palm  seems 
indifferent  to  the  season  and  the  soil.  When  the 
drought  dries  up  the  springs,  and  when  the  flooded 
streams  fill  the  valleys,  it  is  equally  green  and  flour- 
ishing, and  it  casts  the  same  kindly  shade  on  the 
humblest  traveler.  Such  is  the  palm  as  the  desert 
pilgrim  sees  its  feathery  branches  motionless  in  the 
breathless  noon  or  waving  in  the  breeze  of  the  setting 
day. 

And  so  stands  the  righteous  man,  firm  on  the  post 
of  duty,  fearless  in  the  time  of  danger,  unmoved  by 
the  changing  multitude,  shedding  a  genial  light  upon 


446  THE  PALM  TREE. 

the  lowly,  yet  keeping  himself  in  pure  and  divine 
separation  from  the  world.  "  Faithful  found  among 
the  faithless/'  he  keeps  his  loyalty  and  his  love,  while 
the  passions  and  pollutions  of  the  multitude  swell  and 
roar  around  him,  "outrageous  as  a  sea."  He  stands 
erect  in  his  innocency,  armed  with  the  truth  and  re- 
joicing in  the  light  and  open  day.  If  he  bends  before 
the  storm,  it  is  only  to  rise  with  new  strength  and 
beauty  to  his  wonted  stature  when  the  tempest  has  ex- 
pended its  fury,  as  the  palm  is  only  the  more  firmly 
rooted  and  the  more  gracefully  formed  in  lands  where 
it  is  assailed  by  the  fiercest  winds.  He  stands  a»  a 
beacon  to  warn  mariners  of  the  hidden  shoal  and  the 
rocky  shore.  His  silent  example  invites  the  thirsty  to 
living  waters,  as  the  palm  in  the  desert  shows  the  pil- 
grim where  springs  may  be  found.  His  word  of  en- 
couragement in  the  hour  of  despondency  is  like  the 
shout  of  victory  amid  the  roar  of  battle.  In  every  en- 
terprise the  presence  of  a  good  man  is  the  best  promise 
of  success.  The  cause  to  which  he  gives  his  life  is  the 
only  cause  that  can  never  fail.  And  whether  he  dies 
alone  or  amid  the  plaudits  of  millions,  his  death  is  the 
greatest  triumph. 

Let  skeptics  scoff  at  the  power  of  faith  and  the 
purity  of  religion.  Let  sophists  strive  with  perverse 
ingenuity  to  set  reason  at  variance  with  revelation. 
Let  the  selfish  and  the  gain-seeking  barter  their  souls 
for  gold.  Let  the  gay  and  the  thoughtless  make  a 
jest  of  life.  Still,  so  long  as  there  is  a  good  man  in 


THE  PALM  TREE.  447 

the  world  to  live  for  God,  the  truth  of  the  divine 
promise  shall  be  demonstrated  in  him  with  power. 
He  shall  flourish  like  the  most  beautiful  things  that 
grow  in  the  garden  of  God.  In  all  greatness  and 
purity  of  character,  in  all  peace  and  joy  of  heart,  the 
good  man  shall  flourish  like  the  palm.  By  silent  and 
by  outspoken  separation  from  evil  he  shall  testify 
against  its  subtilty  and  its  power.  By  serene  and 
sustained  superiority  of  faith  he  shall  overcome  the 
world. 

The  light  of  heaven's  blessing  clothes  the  counte- 
nance of  the  upright  man,  like  the  sunbeams  reflected 
from  the  shining  foliage  of  the  palm,  and  the  moral 
waste  around  him  blooms  in  his  beneficence.  He  can 
mingle  with  men  in  all  the  walks  of  life,  and  go 
through  all  the  haunts  of  wickedness  upon  errands 
of  mercy  and  love,  and  yet  keep  his  garments  clean. 
Under  his  cultivation  the  barren  desert  brings  forth 
immortal  fruit,  and  the  dark  homes  of  the  vile  and 
wretched  are  cheered  with  light  from  heaven.  He 
stands  as  a  tower  of  strength  upon  the  post  of  duty, 
to  show  the  faithless  that  there  is  something  to  believe 
and  the  fearful  that  there  is  something  to  trust,  even 
when  heart  and  flesh  fail  and  all  earthly  hope  is  cut 
off.  The  worldly  and  the  wicked  may  rail  at  him  in 
the  day  of  their  prosperity,  but  the  worst  of  men 
will  welcome  his  coming  in  the  dark  hour  of  affliction, 
and  eyes  dimmed  with  the  shadows  of  death  will  look 
upon  his  face  as  if  it  were  the  face  of  an  angel. 


448  THE  PALM  TREE. 

To  the  righteous  man  the  life  of  duty  and  self- 
denial  is  precious  and  full  of  joy.  He  does  not  climb 
to  the  commanding  heights  of  faith,  as  men  climb  the 
dazzling  steep  of  fame,  to  find  it  more  cheerless  and 
cold  the  higher  they  go.  He  is  drawn  to  every  duty 
by  love,  and  he  finds  in  self-denial  itself  a  foretaste  of 
heaven.  Even  this  present  world,  with  all  its  storms 
and  sorrows,  is  beautiful  to  him  who  walks  with  God, 
because  he  finds  his  Father's  work  at  every  step ;  he 
sees  reflections  of  his  Father's  love  in  all  the  pleasant 
things  brought  forth  by  the  sun,  and  he  delights  in 
the  beauties  and  glories  of  creation  as  if  they  were  all 
his  own. 

Such  is  the  character  of  the  man  to  whom  the  Bible 
gives  the  promise — "He  shall  flourish  like  the  palm 
tree."  Such  is  the  character  which  every  one  can 
make  his  own.  This  is  what  the  world  wants  more 
than  anything  else  to  preserve  the  peace  of  society,  to 
lighten  the  burdens  of  the  weary,  to  increase  the 
attractions  of  home,  to  ensure  the  happiness  of  the 
human  race.  We  could  indeed  do  much  to  improve 
the  world  with  money  if  we  had  more  of  it.  Sound 
health  would  make  life  a  new  experience  to  many,  if 
they  only  knew  how  to  get  it.  Every  acquisition  of 
knowledge  is  an  increase  of  power  to  make  ourselves 
and  others  happy.  But  far  more  than  money  and 
health  and  knowledge  the  world  needs  righteousness, 
purity,  faith.  To  secure  every  needed  reformation,  to 
enjoy  the  highest  luxuries  of  light,  liberty  and  pro- 


THE  PALM  TREE.  449 

,  the  world  wants  honest  men — men  that  are  true 
to  the  very  core — men  that  hate  all  forms  of  falsehood 
and  insincerity  before  God  and  man  with  a  perfect 
hatred. 

Let  the  aspiring  youth  make  it  the  highest  aim  of 
his  ambition  to  be  a  righteous  man,  and  he  need  not 
be  anxious  about  anything  else.  The  immutable  God 
has  promised  that  all  other  things  shall  be  theirs  who 
seek  the  kingdom  of  God  first.  The  world  is  full 
of  disappointment  and  misery,  just  because  men  are 
afraid  to  believe  that  God  will  be  as  good  as  his  word, 
when  he  says  that  no  good  thing  shall  be  withholden 
from  them  that  walk  uprightly.  Let  it  be  the  first 
and  great  concern  of  parents  to  train  up  their  children 
to  virtue  and  piety,  and  they  need  have  no  fear  about 
their  success  in  the  world.  Let  it  always  be  assumed 
and  maintained  in  the  daily  conversation  of  the  family 
that  the  path  of  duty  is  the  path  of  pleasure,  purity 
of  heart,  perfect  uprightness  of  life,  is  the  seal  and 
crown  of  honor,  and  then  parents  would  seldom  be 
disappointed  in  their  children,  and  the  humblest  earthly 
home  would  be  the  vestibule  of  heaven. 

The  palm  grows  from  within  outward.  The  new 
deposit  of  matter  which  is  to  enlarge  its  dimensions 
and  increase  its  strength  comes  directly  from  the  vital 
process  which  is  going  on  at  the  heart.  Though  the 
surface  may  seem  hard  and  rigid,  yet  the  central  por- 
tion of  the  trunk  is  soft  and  pliant,  and  at  the  same 
time  full  of  that  mysterious  and  unconquerable  vitality 

20 


450  THE  PALM  TREE. 

which  is  the  source  of  strength  and  growth  and  life  to 
the  whole  tree.  With  the  other  and  much  larger  class 
of  trees  the  process  of  growth  is  the  reverse  of  this. 
In  them  the  heart  may  be  hard  as  iron  or  dead  as 
stone,  while  the  outside  appears  green  and  flourishing. 
The  whole  vitality  of  the  tree  may  be  employed  in 
giving  the  surface  the  appearance  of  life,  while  the 
heart  is  utterly  gone  and  the  trunk  is  nothing  but  a 
shell. 

The  spiritual  life  of  the  righteous  man  has  its  seat 
in  the  heart,  and  displays  its  force  from  within  out- 
ward. His  external  aspect  may  sometimes  seem  rigid 
and  cold,  but  there  is  warmth  and  tender  sensibility 
within.  The  heart  of  the  good  man  is  the  best  of  him  ; 
of  the  bad  man,  it  is  the  worst.  It  is  sometimes  said 
of  wicked  men  that  they  are  good  at  heart,  after  all. 
If  they  were,  there  would  be  little  need  of  the  apology. 
The  heart  makes  the  man,  and  the  outward  life  is  only 
the  fruit  of  seed  sown  within. 

The  palm  in  Oriental  countries  chooses  its  place  of 
growth  beside  the  running  streams  or  fountains  ot 
water.  The  desert  ranger  toiling  over  the  waste  of 
burning  sand,  half  maddened  by  the  fierce  beams  of 
the  pitiless  sun,  and  feeling  in  his  heart  the  horrible 
aspect  of  the  desolation  and  death  that  reign  around 
him,  sees  afar  over  the  glimmering  ridges  of  sand  the 
feathery  palm  lift  its  green  coronal  to  the  sky,  and  at 
once  his  strength  revives  and  his  voice  breaks  forth  in 
pong.  Even  the  brute  camel  hails  the  palm  groves  of 


THE  PALM  TREE.  451 

the  desert  with  a  joy  that  makes  his  chafing  burden 
light  and  kindles  new  life  in  every  weary  limb.  And 
the  wild  wanderers  of  the  East  name  both  the  tree  and 
the  fountain  beneath  its  shade  among  the  choicest  gifts 
of  God.  Give  the  Arab  and  his  camel  the  palm  and 
the  spring,  and  both  are  provided  with  plenty  in  the 
desert. 

And  indeed  the  palm  in  some  one  of  its  thousand 
species  answers  almost  every  want  of  the  more  culti- 
vated man  in  civilized  homes.  It  cools  the  air  in  sum- 
mer with  fans,  and  it  warms  the  house  in  winter  with 
fires.  It  shields  the  head  from  the  rays  of  the  sun 
when  riding,  and  it  protects  the  feet  from  the  thorns 
of  the  desert  when  walking.  It  supplies  tools  and 
aprons  for  the  workman,  chairs  and  beds  for  the 
weary,  biers  and  coffins  for  the  dead.  It  is  made  into 
shutters  and  blinds  to  keep  the  light  out  by  day,  and 
it  supplies  lamps  and  oil  to  keep  the  light  within  by 
night.  It  is  wrought  into  books  and  paper  for  the 
student,  bows  and  arrows  for  the  warrior,  lines  and 
nets  for  the  fisherman,  sails  and  cordage  for  the  sea- 
man, food  and  medicine  for  everybody.  The  Oriental 
traveler  is  carried  in  a  palanquin  of  palm,  his  good? 
are  packed  in  bags  and  baskets  of  palm,  he  reposes  at 
noon  under  the  shade  of  the  palm,  his  food  is  cooked 
and  brought  him  in  vessels  of  palm,  he  sleeps  at  night 
on  a  mattress  of  palm,  in  a  room  that  is  roofed  and  cur- 
tained and  carpeted  with  palm.  Some  species  of  this 
wonderful  tree  must  find  a  place  in  every  picture  of  the 


452  THE  PALM  TREE. 

Oriental  world,  and  some  one  or  more  of  its  many  uses 
must  form  a  part  of  every  day's  experience  of  life  in 
tropical  climes.  If  the  palm  should  be  taken  from  the 
bright  lands  of  the  sun,  the  wild  beasts  would  howl 
with  hunger  in  the  jungle,  famine  would  enter  millions 
of  human  homes  and  the  wanderer  would  die  in  the 
desert. 

The  righteous  man  is  like  the  palm  in  the  multitude 
of  blessings  with  which  he  enriche,  the  world.  One 
good  man  in  a  great  city  may  save  it  from  destruction ; 
one  good  man  in  a  great  cause  may  ensure  its  triumph ; 
one  good  man  in  a  dark  day  may  bring  back  the  sun. 
Let  it  be  known  that  good  men  are  making  their  home 
in  a  certain  village,  and  every  house  in  that  village 
will  be  worth  more  than  it  cost  its  owner.  Let  it  be 
known  that  good  men  are  taking  stock  in  any  company, 
and  every  share  of  that  stock  will  rise  in  the  market. 
Men  do  not  serve  God  for  pay,  and  yet  godliness  alone 
is  great  gain  and  is  profitable  unto  all  things.  The 
wealth  of  the  world  is  in  its  good  men,  and  there  would 
be  little  left  worth  living  for  if  the  faithful  should  fail 
from  among  the  children  of  men.  Let  the  earth  be 
enriched  with  the  increase  of  righteous  men  and  all 
poverty  and  wretchedness  will  pass  away.  Great  cities 
will  be  crowded  with  happy  millions,  countless  villages 
will  shine  with  happy  homes,  the  earth  will  bring  forth 
a  hundred-fold,  the  waste  will  be  inhabited,  there  will 
be  highways  in  the  wilderness  and  the  desert  will  be- 
come like  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 


THE  PALM  TREE.  453 

The  Bible  compares  the  wicked  to  thorns  and  briers, 
and  both  are  the  opposite  of  the  palm.  Thorns  pierce 
the  flesh  and  rend  the  garments,  and  their  end  is  only 
to  be  burned.  Briers  and  brambles  creep  upon  the 
ground  like  the  serpent.  They  never  run  in  a  straight 
course,  but  through  a  thousand  tortuous  turns  and 
windings.  They  enfold  and  strangle  the  branches  of 
the  tree  upon  which  they  depend  for  support.  They 
hedge  up  the  path  of  the  traveler.  They  conceal  their 
hooked  spines  in  the  smooth  grass,  that  they  may  pierce 
the  foot  and  tear  the  flesh  of  those  who  walk  with  a 
heedless  step.  So  wickedness  creeps  like  the  serpent 
and  crouches  like  the  beast  of  prey.  So  it  hedges  up 
the  way  of  the  upright,  and  weaves  snares  to  bring 
him  down  to  its  own  level.  It  puts  forth  soft  and 
pliant  tendrils  only  the  more  certainly  to  strangle  and 
destroy  in  the  end.  The  foliage  of  the  brier  and  the 
bramble  is  smooth  and  glistening,  but  the  fair  cover- 
ing of  green  leaves  conceals  a  whole  armory  of  spears 
and  daggers  beneath.  The  enchanting  bower  which 
they  form  with  their  climbing  vines  is  the  favorite 
haunt  of  the  venomous  serpent  and  the  hiding-place 
of  the  birds  and  beasts  of  prey. 

Thus  the  sacred  similitudes  of  the  Bible  set  before 
us  the  true  characters  of  men.  The  one  stands  up- 
right and  loves  the  day  like  the  palm — the  other  shuns 
the  light  and  creeps  on  the  ground  like  the  bramble. 
The  two  are  in  perpetual  conflict  with  each  other. 
The  palm  alone  shall  win  the  day  and  wear  the 


454  THE  PALM  TREE. 

crown.  Truth  is  stronger  than  error.  Righteousness 
shall  prevail  over  wrong.  All  greatness,  strength  and 
excellence  of  character  come  from  believing  the  truth, 
defending  the  right,  doing  the  duty  which  God  com- 
mands. 

Milton  makes  the  fallen  angel  say,  "To  be  weak  is  to 
be  miserable."  It  is  indeed  a  sentiment  most  likely  to 
come  from  the  mouth  of  demons,  and  worthy  to  be 
urged  in  the  councils  of  hell.  To  be  wicked  is  to  be 
miserable.  To  be  righteous  is  to  be  strong  and  happy. 
The  just  man  has  nothing  to  fear  from  force  or  fraud 
so  long  as  he  keeps  his  loyalty  and  his  love.  Strong 
and  terrible  as  have  been  the  masters  of  iniquity  in 
this  world,  they  would  have  been  greater  and  mightier 
if  they  had  been  just.  The  one  Person  who  has 
exerted  most  influence  in  the  affairs  of  men  thus  far 
was  meek  and  lowly  in  disposition,  holy,  harmless, 
undefiled  in  life.  Long  as  wickedness  has  filled  the 
high  places  of  power  in  the  earth,  there  is  a  time 
coming  when  righteousness  shall  receive  the  palm  of 
triumph,  and  those  who  were  accounted  weak  and 
defenceless  shall  be  crowned  conquerors  and  more  than 
conquerors. 

In  the  glorious  vision  of  the  Apocalypse  we  can  see 
them  even  now.  They  are  before  the  throne,  walking 
in  the  splendors  of  the  sunless  and  eternal  day.  Not 
a  feeble  and  scattered  company,  but  a  multitude  which 
no  man  can  number.  Not  of  one  sect  or  class,  but  of 
all  nations  and  kindreds  and  people  and  tongues.  Not 


THE  PALM  TREE.  455 

the  self-indulgent  and  the  time  serving.  They  have 
come  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  they  have  trodden 
the  fiery  furnace  of  all  earthly  affliction  when  it  was 
heated  seven-fold.  They  have  come  from  dungeons 
and  scaffolds,  from  garrets  and  hovels.  They  have 
passed  through  sore  conflict  and  deep  self-denial  and 
bitter  disappointment.  No  longer  poor,  struggling, 
sorrowing,  they  are  clothed  in  richer  robes  than  earthly 
kings  ever  wore.  They  are  crowned  with  more  costly 
diadems  than  conquerors  ever  won.  The  days  of  pain 
and  want  and  weeping  are  past.  They  burst  forth  in 
song,  loud  as  the  thunder  of  the  sea,  "  sweet  as  from 
blest  voices  uttering  joy/'  and  they  wave  palms  of 
victory  in  their  hands  as  they  sing,  "Salvation  unto 
our  God  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the 
Lamb!"  And  all  the  blest  inhabitants  of  heaven, 
angel  and  archangel,  cherub  and  burning  seraph, 
echo  back  the  refrain  of  that  victorious  song,  saying, 
"Amen;  blessing  and  glory  and  wisdom  and  thanks- 
giving and  honor  and  power  and  might  be  unto  our 
God,  for  ever  and  ever!" 

In  that  great  day  of  supreme  and  final  triumph  it 
will  be  seen  that  righteousness  was  strong,  and  wicked- 
ness, in  all  its  forms  and  with  all  its  pride,  was  only 
another  name  for  failure  and  defeat.  Contrasted  with 
the  crown  of  righteousness,  the  most  successful  career 
of  wrong  will  be  shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  In 
that  great  assembly  the  loudest  voice  and  the  sweetest 
song  will  be  theirs  who  have  done  and  suffered  most 


456  THE  PALM  TREE. 

for  Christ.  If  you  would  stand  in  that  glorious  com- 
pany and  sing  the  victor's  song,  you  must  be  girt  with 
righteousness  and  purity  as  with  a  garment — you  must 
be  clothed  in  robes  which  have  been  made  white  in 
the  redeeming  blood  of  the  Lamb.  You  must  not 
shrink  from  the  conflicts  and  the  scars  through  which 
Christ  himself  has  passed  to  the  heavenly  throne. 


(EJt  Cttar  of  ftbanon. 


The  righteous  .hall  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon,— Ps.  xcii.  12. 


XXIII. 

THE   CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

HE  cedar  of  Lebanon  holds  a  kingly  rank  among 
all  the  trees  of  the  Bible.  It  was  most  widely 
known  and  revered  by  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Holy  Land.  It  belongs  to  a  class  of  trees  that 
have  traveled  with  man  in  all  his  migrations  and 
found  a  home  in  all  the  climes  of  the  earth.  The 
cedar,  the  pine,  the  fir,  the  spruce,  the  larch,  all 
belong  to  one  family  which  has  its  representatives  in 
the  sweltering  heat  of  the  Tropics  and  amid  the  icy 
rigors  of  the  Arctic  zone.  In  every  land  its  leaves  are 
always  green.  At  every  season  the  wind  plays  the 
same  sweet  and  melancholy  strain  upon  its  needle- 
shaped  foliage,  like  the  murmur  of  waves  upon  a  far- 
off  coast.  Whether  crowning  the  cold  height  of  the 
mountain,  covering  the  ridge  of  the  storm-swept  hill, 
marching  in  scattered  troops  over  the  broad  plain,  or 
crowding  into  the  narrow  space  of  the  sheltered  valley, 
the  pines,  the  firs  and  the  cedars  love  the  sunshine,  yet 
laugh  at  the  storm;  they  flourish  in  the  heat,  yet 
defy  the  cold ;  they  rejoice  in  the  rivers  and  foun- 
tains of  water,  and  yet  grow  upon  the  sandy  waste  and 


459 


160  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

plant  their  roots  among  barren  rocks.  They  are  bright 
and  green  all  winter  when  everything  else  is  dead ;  and 
they  put  on  new  garments  to  welcome  the  spring  when 
everything  else  is  fresh  and  gay. 

In  this  great  family  of  princes  the  cedar  is  sovereign 
and  sacred.  It  has  been  crowned  and  consecrated  by 
the  Divine  Hand  and  set  over  all  the  trees  of  the  wood 
as  their  king.  The  inspired  writers  use  it  most  fre- 
quently in  illustrating  the  meaning  and  power  of  spir- 
itual truth.  It  is  called  the  tree  of  the  Lord,  and  it  is 
named  and  numbered  among  the  most  excellent  and 
beautiful  of  God's  works  in  the  world. 

According  to  the  Hebrew  classification,  the  whole 
range  of  vegetation  was  comprised  in  the  descent  from 
the  lofty  cedar  of  Lebanon  to  the  lowly  hyssop  that 
springeth  out  of  the  wall.  None  but  the  kings  and 
princes  of  the  land  could  dwell  in  houses  of  cedar. 
When  God  would  promise  the  greatest  prosperity  to 
Israel,  he  declared  that  he  would  make  the  cedar  to 
grow  in  the  dry  places  of  the  wilderness.  It  would 
indeed  even  now  bring  back  the  days  of  her  ancient 
glory  to  Palestine  could  the  royal  cedar  once  more 
cover  the  heights  of  Lebanon  and  hide  the  nakedness 
of  her  burnt  and  barren  hills.  The  cedar  would 
gather  the  clouds  from  the  distant  sea  and  pour  down 
the  rain  upon  the  parched  fields,  and  the  whole  air 
perfumed  with  its  balsam  would  seem  as  if  it  had  been 
breathed  upon  by  "Sabean  odors  from  the  spicy  clime 
of  Araby  the  blest." 


THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON.  461 

In  the  Song  of  Songs  it  is  set  forth  as  the  height  of 
refined  and  romantic  luxury  to  dwell  in  houses  the 
doors  of  which  are  paneled  with  cedar,  or  to  go  out  in 
the  blooming  spring  and  camp  in  the  green  pastures 
beneath  the  perfumed  boughs  of  the  spreading  cedar. 
Now,  the  harassed  and  dispirited  inhabitants  of  the 
Holy  Land  have  little  disposition  to  make  a  holiday 
on  the  hillsides,  and  they  would  search  in  vain  to  find 
a  grove  of  cedars  where  they  once  grew  in  numbers 
like  the  olive  and  in  luxuriance  like  the  vine.  When 
Balaam,  the  prophet  of  the  East,  looked  from  the 
mountains  of  Moab  upon  the  tents  of  the  tribes  camped 
in  the  plains  below,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  came  upon 
him  and  constrained  him  to  pronounce  the  richest 
blessing  upon  the  chosen  people  that  had  come  out  of 
Egypt,  he  said:  "How  goodly  are  thy  tabernacles,  O 
Israel !  They  are  spread  forth  like  gardens  by  the 
river's  side,  like  cedar  trees  which  the  Lord  hath 
planted  beside  the  waters."  His  fervid  imagination, 
kindled  at  the  fiery  fountain  of  the  sun  in  the  lands 
of  the  East,  could  picture  nothing  more  beautiful  than 
groves  of  cedars  stirred  by  the  wind  ©f  the  morning 
and  waving  their  green  boughs  in  the  valleys. 

When  the  sacred  chroniclers  would  describe  the 
riches  and  splendor  of  the  reign  of  Solomon,  they  tell 
us  that  he  made  the  precious  cedars  in  Jerusalem  to  be 
as  the  common  sycamore  tree  in  the  vale  for  abundance. 
The  most  magnificent  of  all  the  kings  of  Israel  marked 
his  reign  by  the  culture  of  the  most  kingly  among  the 


462  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

trees,  and  by  covering  the  public  walks  and  chariot- 
courses  around  his  capital  with  its  shadow.  The 
Psalmist,  in  the  day  of  national  affliction,  describes 
the  former  prosperity  of  his  people  by  saying  that 
the  vine  of  the  Lord's  planting  covered  the  hills  with 
its  shadow  and  put  forth  its  boughs  like  the  cedars  of 
God. 

In  another  passage,  remarkable  for  its  picturesque 
and  stirring  beauty  of  expression,  the  Psalmist  de- 
scribes the  might  and  fury  of  a  thunder-storm,  pouring 
its  torrents  and  discharging  its  arrowy  lightnings  upon 
the  forests  among  the  mountains,  by  saying  that  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  breaketh  the  cedars  of  Lebanon. 
The  resistless  power  of  Him  who  rideth  upon  the 
whirlwind  was  manifest  in  crushing  the  monarch  of 
the  forests  on  its  mountain  throne.  So  conspicuous  was 
the  glory  of  the  cedar  in  the  heights  of  Lebanon  that 
when  it  fell  and  was  trodden  down  by  the  wrath  of  the 
storm,  the  wilderness  shook  with  the  sound  of  its  crash- 
ing branches ;  the  fir  trees  and  the  oaks  of  Bashan 
howled  with  dismay ;  the  mountain  mourned  as  if 
shorn  of  its  glory,  and  the  trees  of  the  forest  fainted 
at  the  loss  of  their  king.  The  young  lions  roared 
with  terror  in  their  secret  dens,  and  the  shepherds  of 
the  distant  valleys  lifted  up  their  voices  in  lamenta- 
tions. So  the  prophets  spoke  of  the  cedar  in  moments 
of  the  loftiest  inspiration,  and  the  common  language 
of  the  people  gave  equal  pre-eminence  to  the  royal  tree. 

The  kings  of  Israel  and  of  Judah  are  repeatedly 


THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON.  463 

described  under  the  emblem  of  a  cedar.  When  the 
king  of  Babylon  came  with  his  armies  against  Jerusa- 
lem and  took  away  her  king  and  princes  to  his  own 
land,  the  prophet  Ezekiel  describes  the  conquest  and 
captivity  in  the  terms  of  this  parable :  "A  great  eagle, 
with  great  wings,  long-winged,  full  of  feathers,  which 
had  divers  colors,  came  unto  Lebanon  and  took  the 
highest  branch  of  the  cedar.  He  cropped  off  the  top 
of  its  young  twigs  and  carried  it  into  a  land  of  traffic." 
The  same  prophet  describes  the  pride  and  power  of 
the  Assyrian  monarch  in  another  parable  of  like 
import:  "Behold  the  Assyrian  was  a  cedar  in  Leb- 
anon, with  fair  branches  and  with  a  shadowing  shroud, 
and  of  a  high  stature,  and  his  top  was  among  the  thick 
boughs.  The  waters  made  him  great,  the  deep  set  him 
up  on  high,  with  his  rivers  running  round  about  his 
plants.  Therefore,  his  height  was  exalted  above  all 
the  trees  of  the  field,  and  his  boughs  were  multiplied, 
and  his  branches  became  long  because  of  the  multitude 
of  waters  when  he  shot  forth.  All  the  fowls  of  heaven 
made  their  nests  in  his  boughs,  and  under  his  branches 
did  all  the  beasts  of  the  field  bring  forth  their  young, 
and  under  his  shadow  dwelt  all  great  nations.  Thus 
was  he  fair  in  his  greatness,  in  the  length  of  his 
branches,  for  his  root  was  by  great  waters.  The  fir 
trees  were  not  like  his  boughs,  and  the  chestnut  tree* 
were  not  like  his  branches :  not  any  tree  in  the  garden 
of  God  was  like  him  in  his  beauty." 

Such  is  the  rank  of  royal  excellence  and  dignity 


464  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

accorded  to  the  cedar  among  all  the  trees  of  the  forest 
by  the  common  usage  of  the  Scriptures.  The  inspired 
writers  exhaust  all  the  resources  of  language  in  describ- 
ing the  beauty  and  pre-eminence  of  the  sacred  tree,  and 
then  they  say  that  any  man  who  lives  to  do  his  duty 
to  God  shall  grow  like  the  cedar  in  Lebanon.  The 
righteous  man  is  the  king  of  men.  The  highest  rank 
belongs  to  him  who  walks  humbly  with  God.  The 
lowliest  disciple  of  Jesus  is  a  candidate  for  higher 
honors  than  the  voice  of  the  people  or  the  vote  of 
Congress  can  confer  upon  the  most  favored  child  of 
fortune.  He  is  the  heir  of  a  greater  inheritance  than 
the  wealth  of  the  world  can  buy; 

"The  noblest  creature  seen  below, 
:  Ordained  to  fill  a  throne  above : 

God  gives  him  all  he  can  bestow — 
His  kingdom  of  eternal  love." 

It  does  not  make  a  man  a  king  to  place  a  crown  on 
his  head  and  a  sceptre  in  his  hand.  He  may  have  all 
the  showy  and  captivating  signs  of  royalty  and  yet  be 
a  slave.  There  have  been  many  such,  and  they  were 
the  more  miserable  because  the  fetters  they  wore  were 
golden  and  their  prison  was  a  palace.  If  a  man  be  not 
already  noble  in  heart  and  character,  no  crowning  can 
make  him  king,  no  place  or  rank  or  power  can  give 
him  a  seat  among  the  sons  of  the  Highest.  The  great 
study  of  character  is  to  find  out  what  makes  men  great 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  to  give  the  highest  honor  to 
those  who  stand  highest  in  the  books  of  Heaven. 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  465 

Man  in  his  sinful  state  has  fallen  away  trom  his 
divine  lineage,  and  yet  he  cannot  wholly  forget  it. 
While  looking  earthward  and  groping  in  the  dust,  he 
can  still  see  faint  reflections  of  the  heavenly  crown 
offered  him  from  above.  The  most  abject  slave  of  the 
world  knows  that  he  ought  to  be  a  king  and  conquer 
the  power  that  carries  him  captive.  However  far  the 
wanderer  may  go  from  God,  there  is  an  earnest  voice 
ever  whispering  within,  "Return  to  thy  Father's 
house."  The  beautiful  shell  that  was  formed  in  the 
depths  and  rolled  on  the  floor  of  the  sea  may  be 
carried  away  to  the  mountains  or  stored  for  years  in 
the  cabinet  of  the  university.  But  still,  if  held  to  the 
ear,  it  will  murmur  of  its  home  in  the  deep,  it  will 
thrill  with  the  music  of  waves  that  break  on  its  native 
shore.  So  the  soul,  that  was  made  to  be  a  king  unto 
God  and  to  reign  for  ever  in  the  boundless  realm  of  a 
blessed  life,  may  fall  away  from  that  high  and  glorious 
rank  and  sink  to  the  shame  and  misery  of  a  slave. 
And  yet  inward  voices  will  whisper  of  the  lost  throne 
which  is  still  waiting  for  him  among  the  sons  of  the 
morning — solemn  convictions  will  awaken  the  need  of  a 
higher  service  and  a  better  home.  In  the  far  country, 
where  the  wanderer  disowns  the  royalty  of  his  nature 
and  wastes  the  treasures  of  his  heart,  he  has  longings 
and  self-accusings,  the  crushing  burden  and  the  bitter 
want  of  an  unsatisfied  soul  to  bring  him  back  to  his 
forsaken  kingdom  and  dishonored  crown. 

No  man  can  repress  and  stifle  the  heaven-born  in- 

2D 


466  THE   OEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

&tmc  of  his  spiritual  nature  without  a  violent  strain 
upon  his  conscience  and  his  heart.  In  the  right  use 
of  his  endowments  he  must  be  always  lifting  himself 
up  to  a  higher  and  better  life.  He  must  make  all  his 
studies  pleasures,  toils,  steps  on  which  to  climb  in  the 
ascending  way  to  glory  and  to  God.  The  dignities  of 
this  world  are  too  mean,  the  range  of  earthly  interests 
too  low,  too  limited  for  the  desires  and  aspirations 
which  God  created  within  us  when  he  breathed  into 
our  souls  the  breath  of  immortality.  It  will  cost  any 
man  a  severe  struggle,  a  blind  and  bitter  conflict  with 
his  better  self,  before  he  can  give  up  his  divine  lineage 
and  be  content  to  have  his  name  written  in  the  dust. 

You  may  plant  the  cone  of  a  California  pine  in  a 
'vase  of  earth,  and  cover  it  with  a  globe  of  glass,  and 
set  it  in  your  southern  window,  so  as  to  catch  the  light 
and  warmth  of  the  sun,  and  while  you  keep  the  few 
handfuls  of  earth  moist  the  pine  will  grow  till  it 
reaches  the  highest  p®int  of  the  circumscribing  glass, 
and  it  will  search  all  round  the  inner  surface  to  find 
some  way  out  of  its  crystalline  prison ;  and  for  a  while 
it  will  press  with  all  its  vital  force  to  escape  into  the 
free  air  and  shoot  toward  heaven.  But  if  the  glass  be 
strong  enough  to  resist  the  pressure,  the  branches  will 
turn  back  to  the  earth  from  which  they  sprang,  the 
stunted  pine  will  soon  cease  to  grow,  and  after  a  few 
Hummers  of  sickly  life  it  will  wither  down  to  the  root. 
But  plant  the  same  seed  in  its  native  soil,  and  give  it 
the  stimulus  of  changing  seasons  and  refreshing  show- 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  467 

ers  and  genial  sunshine,  and  it  will  go  on,  lifting  its 
branches  higher  and  higher  toward  heaven,  for  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  years,  until  it  forms  the  loftiest 
pile  of  living  verdure  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

So  a  man  may  plant  his  most  cherished  hopes  upon 
a  little  spot  of  earth  which  he  calls  his  own,  and  close 
himself  in  with  the  glazed  covering  of  worldly  expedi- 
encies, occupations,  pleasures  and  anxieties,  and  for  a 
while  he  will  have  strong  impulses  to  break  through 
the  thin  walls  of  his  prison  and  come  forth  to  a  larger 
and  freer  life.  But  in  the  end,  if  he  keeps  the  cover- 
ing on,  all  his  growth  will  be  downward ;  he  will  reach 
only  a  dwarfed  and  sickly  life,  and  he  will  die,  as  if 
his  soul  went  back  to  the  dust  with  the  body  which  it 
animated.  But  let  the  man  break  forth  from  the  con- 
tracted circle  of  a  worldly  life,  let  him  cultivate  hopes 
and  aspirations  worthy  of  his  immortal  destiny,  let 
him  learn  to  look  upon  God  as  his  Father  and  him- 
self as  the  heir  of  the  whole  boundless  creation,  and 
he  shall  grow  in  greatness  and  in  joy  beyond  the  reach 
of  his  loftiest  thought ;  he  shall  be  made  a  king  unto 
God  and  shall  reign  for  ever. 

The  royal  distinction  of  the  righteous  man  does  not 
indeed  always  agree  with  present  appearances.  It  is 
contrary  to  the  prevailing  opinions  and  expectations  of 
men.  It  is  only  after  sore  discipline  and  severe  instruc- 
tion that  the  heir  of  glory  himself  learns  to  wear  his 
divine  honors  with  the  grace  and  dignity  becoming  his 
high  rank.  We  are  prone  to  judge  of  things  as  they 


468  TEE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

seem  to  our  senses.  We  are  governed  by  the  opinions 
and  usages  that  prevail  around  us:  And  thus  we 
fail  to  see  that  bare  citizenship  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  confers  an  immeasurable  and  everlasting  supe- 
riority over  all  the  possessions  and  glories  of  earth  and 
time.  The  mighty  conqueror  rides  forth  in  the  whirl- 
wind of  battle  and  millions  mourn  beneath  the  stroke 
of  his  thunderbolts,  and  yet  the  world  reads  his  history 
with  raptures  of  admiration. 

Come  with  me  and  I  will  show  you  a  greater  man. 
Tread  lightly,  for  it  is  the  chamber  of  death  that  we 
enter.  Let  all  trifling  thoughts  be  put  away,  for  we 
are  in  the  presence  of  the  mightiest  of  conquerors,  and 
the  awful  shadow  of  eternity  is  upon  us.  Let  our 
words  be  few,  for  we  must  speak  in  the  hearing  of  one 
who  an  hour  hence  will  stand  before  the  throne  of  the 
Infinite  God.  There  he  lies,  an  unknown  sufferer, 
upon  a  humble  couch,  wasted  with  disease  and  racked 
with  pain.  The  pallid  hue  of  death  is  on  his  brow 
and  an  unearthly  light  is  in  his  eye.  Physicians  have 
exhausted  the  resources  of  their  art,  and  retired  with 
the  confession  that  the  patient  is  in  the  hands  of  a 
mightier  Power  than  their  own.  Weeping  friends  are 
standing  around  his  bed  to  see  him  die.  The  last 
requests  have  been  made  and  the  words  of  farewell 
have  been  spoken.  The  chamber  is  as  solemn  as  if 
one  had  only  to  step  through  the  door  to  pass  into 
eternity. 

And  yet  this  man,  for  whom  the  light  of  another 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  469 

morning  will  never  shine,  is  the  most  calm  and  peaceful 
one  in  all  the  company.  He  never  felt  so  rich,  never 
was  so  well  satisfied  with  his  condition,  never  had 
such  high  expectations  in  all  his  life,  as  he  has  now 
that  he  is  just  about  to  die.  It  would  seem  to  him 
like  mockery  if  you  should  offer  him  all  the  wealth 
and  glories  of  the  world.  He  is  already  a  king,  and 
the  robes  of  his  coronation  are  ready  for  him  to  put  oil. 
He  is  just  about  to  enter  the  most  august  assemblage 
in  the  universe.  He  will  be  received  as  the  peer  of 
angels,  the  companion  of  the  greatest  and  the  mightiest 
that  ever  lived  in  all  time.  He  will  hear  the  voice  of 
One  who  has  everything  to  give,  saying,  "  Come,  inherit 
the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  before  the  foundation  of 
the  world."  And  all  this  is  true  just  because  this 
dying  man  is  a  Christian.  The  one  good  hope  which 
sustains  him  when  sinking  in  the  deep  waters  of  death 
is  so  rich  and  full  and  strong  that  he  can  feel  the  need 
of  nothing  else.  With  gentle  words  he  soothes  the 
grief  of  those  who  weep  around  him.  With  calm 
assurance  he  tells  them  that  he  finds  no  sting,  no  terror 
in  death.  Slowly,  gently  he  passes  away,  and  when  he 
is  gone  it  seems  as  if  he  had  only  taken  the  hand  of 
messengers  that  had  come  to  conduct  him  to  the  throne 
of  the  King.  He  who  so  passes  in  triumph  through 
the  gate  of  death  into  endless  life  is  the  greatest  of 
conquerors,  and  the  hope  that  sustains  him  and  gives 
him  the  victory  in  the  last  conflict  is  the  richest 
possession. 


470  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

I  have  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  mighty  steamship  in 
mid-ocean,  when  the  winds  were  loud  and  the  waves 
were  high,  and  every  inch  of  progress  must  be  made  in 
the  teeth  of  the  storm.  Every  time  the  vast  structure 
rose  upon  the  ridge  of  the  billow  it  seemed  as  if  it 
would  certainly  be  broken  by  the  strain  upon  the 
timbers.  Every  time  it  went  down  into  the  valleys  of 
the  sea  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  go  to  the  bottom. 
Sometimes  it  would  stand  motionless  and  paralyzed  by 
the  stunning  blow  of  some  mighty  wave.  And  then  it 
would  rush  into  the  midst  of  the  rolling  mountains  of 
water,  with  every  timber  trembling  through  its  whole 
length  and  the  waves  sweeping  across  the  deck  from 
stem  to  stern.  And,  so  rising  and  falling,  struggling 
and  trembling,  the  mighty  ship  held  on  its  way  in  the 
face  of  the  storm,  because  down  deep  in  the  midst  of 
its  oak-ribbed  and  iron-bound  frame  there  was  a  heart 
of  fire  that  never  ceased  to  beat  and  to  burn.  Har- 
nessed in  iron  and  bound  to  the  wheel,  there  was  a  mys- 
terious power  which  neither  winds  nor  waves  could  tire 
or  exhaust.  And  I  could  stand  on  the  deck  and  see 
that  strong  ship  wrestling  with  the  tempest,  knowing 
that  my  own  life  was  staked  upon  its  success,  and 
having  no  fear  that  it  would  fail  to  fight  its  way 
through  and  reach  the  desired  haven. 

And  so  have  I  seen  a  man,  as  frail  and  fallible  as 
myself,  beset  by  many  temptations,  borne  down  by 
heavy  burdens,  feeling  every  day  that  the  tasks  laid 
upon  him  were  greater  than  his  strength,  and  yet 


THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON.  471 

meeting  them  manfully,  wrestling  with  man  j  diffi- 
culties and  fighting  with  many  foes.  And  I  h  ive  felt 
sure  that  that  man  would  fight  the  good  fight  to  the 
glorious  end  and  receive  the  victor's  crown  at  last, 
because  down  deep  in  the  very  soul  and  centre  of  his 
being  there  had  been  kindled  a  fire  from  Heaven's  own 
altar ;  there  was  burning  the  flame  of  an  immortal 
hope,  and  no  billows  could  quench  that  flame,  no  storm 
could  blow  it  out.  The  strong  steamship  was  less 
sovereign  on  the  seas  than  was  that  tried  and  tempted 
man  over  all  the  calamities  of  earth.  They  were  all 
so  completely  under  his  command  that  they  could  only 
help  him  on  his  way,  just  as  the  fires  of  persecution 
only  build  chariots  of  flame  in  which  the  triumphant 
souls  of  martyrs  ascend  to  their  heavenly  thrones. 

And  this  grand  success  in  winning  the  richest  prize, 
gaining  the  greatest  victory,  does  not  depend  upon 
possessing  what  the  world  would  call  great  talents  and 
extraordinary  opportunities.  To  every  man  his  own 
mind  is  a  kingdom,  and  he  should  suffer  no  rival .  on 
its  throne.  If  he  masters  his  own  spirit,  if  he  rules 
well  in  the  living  and  immortal  realm  of  his  own  soul, 
he  is  a  prince  in  his  own  God-given  right — he  is  a  king 
among  men.  Any  man  can  be  great  and  honorable  who 
is  content  to  do  his  best  thing,  and  leave  all  other  things 
alone.  Men  fail  to  master  themselves,  and  so  make  a 
failure  of  life,  because  they  want  decision  to  choose 
their  own  course  and  pursue  it  to  the  end.  Men  of 
feeble  talents  and  few  opportunities  become  great 


472  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

before  God  and  man  by  just  doing  the  work  which 
the  Master  gives  them  to  do. 

The  little  city  of  Freyburg  in  Switzerland  has  the 
largest  organ  in  the  world.  When  in  full  play  it 
pours  forth  a  tempest  of  sound  through  a  forest  of 
pipes,  seven  thousand  and  eight  hundred  in  number, 
shaking  the  walls  and  the  foundation  of  the  old  St. 
Nicholas  Church  in  which  it  stands.  All  the  musical 
bands  in  Boston,  New  York  and  Philadelphia  com- 
bined would  not  make  an  orchestra  equal  in  power  to 
this  mighty  instrument  alone.  And  it  is  all  the  work 
of  one  man,  named  Aloys  Moser.  He  was  poor ;  he 
was  not  thought  to  be  a  master  in  his  art ;  he  never  re- 
ceived any  adequate  reward  for  his  labor.  Without 
assistance  or  suggestion  from  others,  he  formed  the 
design  of  building  for  his  native  city  an  organ  which 
travelers  from  distant  nations  should  turn  aside  from 
their  journeys  to  hear,  and  which,  when  heard  in  the 
darkness  of  the  cathedral  at  night,  as  it  now  is,  should 
make  an  hour  never  to  be  forgotten.  And  so  poor 
Moser  began  his  life's  work,  and  he  persevered  for 
long  years  in  the  face  of  opposition  and  poverty  and 
ridicule,  until  his  task  and  his  life  were  finished  to- 
gether. His  aim  may  not  have  been  the  highest  nor 
his  motive  the  best.  But  he  persevered  with  the  faith 
of  a  martyr  till  his  work  was  done,  and  now  it  stands 
among  all  similar  works  in  the  world  like  Mont  Blanc 
among  the  mountains  of  his  native  land,  peerless  and 
alone. 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  473 

When  skillful  fingers  touch  the  keys  the  mighty 
instrument  responds  with  myriad  voices,  ranging 
through  infinite  variations  in  sweetness  and  compass 
and  power.  Now  it  pours  forth  the  heart-breaking 
notes  of  the  Miserere,  with  a  voice  so  piteous  and  human 
that  it  would  seem  as  if  a  lost  soul  were  imprisoned  arid 
wailing  in  its  wilderness  of  pipes.  And  now  it  rolls 
up  the  jubilant  thunders  of  the  Hallelujah  Chorus  in 
such  mighty  volumes  that  the  entranced  listener  forgets 
the  earthly  temple  and  the  work  of  human  hands,  and 
imagines  himself  surrounded  by  the  trumpets  and  voices 
of  heaven  in  numbers  without  number.  Now  it  sounds 
the  war-note,  wild  and  high,  mingled  with  the  tramp  of 
hosts  and  the  battle-hymn  of  men  that  march  as  they 
sing.  And  now  it  warbles  Sweet  Home,  with  a  silvery 
accompaniment  of  singing  birds  and  murmuring  brooks 
and  rustling  foliage  around  the  cottage  door.  Now  it 
chants  the  unearthly  strain  of  cloistered  monks,  in- 
woven with  echoes  that  creep  along  corridors  of  stone 
and  climb  the  sepulchral  arches  of  the  cathedral's  long- 
drawn  aisle.  Then  it  sings  the  evening  hymn  of  shep- 
herds on  the  mountains,  while  the  hills  are  glad  with 
the  tinkling  bells  of  the  home-returning  flocks,  and  the 
vesper  chimes  are  ringing  in  the  village  church  below. 
And  then  again  it  bursts  forth  with  such  a  tempest  of 
sound  as  shakes  the  hills  when  storms  are  abroad 
among  the  Alps  and  thunders  leap  from  cloud  to 
cloud. 

And  all  this  mighty  flood,  this  deep  resounding  sea 


474  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

of  instrumental  harmony,  came  forth  from  the  hand 
and  brain  of  one  poor  man,  who  made  its  creation  the 
task  of  his  life,  and  who  withdrew  all  thought  from 
everything  else  that  he  might  do  one  thing  well.  And 
his  success  shows  that  any  man  can  make  himself  a 
king  in  nobleness  of  aim  and  completeness  of  execu- 
tion, simply  by  fixing  it  clearly  in  mind  what  he  can 
do  best,  and  then  suffering  no  side  influence  to  with- 
draw his  attention  from  his  chosen  task.  Anything 
best  worth  having  is  within  the  reach  of  him  who  has 
decision  enough  to  choose  it  with  all  his  heart,  and 
self-command  enough  to  seek  it  with  all  his  might. 

Let  me  say  then,  especially  to  any  young  man  whose 
eye  may  fall  on  this  page,  choose  for  yourself  a  career 
which  for  time  and  eternity  is  absolutely  the  highest 
and  the  best.  Determine  to  make  the  noblest  use  of 
every  faculty  and  opportunity,  and  take  the  word  of 
divine  revelation  for  your  guide  in  deciding  what  is 
the  highest  and  best.  Study  with  profound  interest 
the  One  infinitely  perfect  character  as  set  before  you  in 
the  gospel  record.  Be  sure  to  learn  first  of  all  that 
goodness  alone  gives  greatness  to  character;  truth 
builds  up  the  mind  and  makes  the  perfect  man ;  devo- 
tion to  duty  is  the  secret  of  happiness.  Determine 
therefore  to  be  a  man  whose  mind,  whose  whole  soul 
and  being,  are  built  up  and  buttressed  against  all  evil 
and  temptation  by  goodness,  truth,  duty.  Scatter  bless- 
ings for  others  as  fast  as  you  gather  them  for  yourself. 
Increase  the  value  of  every  possession  twofold  by  giving 


THE  CEDAE  OF  LEBANON.  475 

more  than  you  receive.  Never  be  content  to  sit  down 
to  your  own  feast  of  happiness  alone,  and  congratulate 
yourself  that  you  have  more  than  others. 

In  all  your  plans,  efforts  and  pleasures  seek  the 
highest  exaltation  of  your  spiritual  and  immortal 
being.  Never  stoop  to  anything  that  will  bring  a 
stain  upon  conscience.  Never  lend  yourself  to  any- 
thing that  misleads  the  mind  or  corrupts  the  heart. 
Make  the  record  of  your  life  such  as  you  will  not  be 
ashamed  to  own  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be 
revealed  and  the  work  of  every  man's  hand  shall  be 
weighed  in  the  balances  of  truth.  Accept  it  ever  as 
the  great  work  of  life  to  make  yourself  the  noblest 
ereature  of  God  in  this  world,  and  to  prepare  for  an 
equal  rank  with  the  highest  and  the  best  of  God's  crea- 
tures in  the  world  to  come.  In  every  condition  and 
occupation  let  your  conduct  be  such  as  shall  do  honor 
to  the  child  and  heir  of  the  most  high  God. 

Any  young  man  who  acts  upon  such  principles  will 
make  himself  a  king.  He  may  not  live  in  a  palace. 
He  may  not  have  thousands  of  his  fellow-men  to  offer 
him  the  help  of  their  hands  and  the  homage  of  their 
hearts.  But  beings  mightier  than  all  the  armies  of 
earth,  angels  from  the  throne  of  heaven,  will  delight 
to  wait  upon  him.  He  can  afford  to  be  indifferent  to 
all  earthly  distinctions.  He  can  rise  above  all  the 
hazards,  sufferings  and  losses  of  this  earthly  life.  He 
can  count  himself  a  king  by  the  crowning  of  a  Divine 
Hand,  and  the  lord  of  his  own  destiny  by  a  graciously- 


476  THE  CEDAR   OF  LEBANON. 

given  and  divine  right.  The  world  may  despise  him, 
it  cannot  put  him  to  shame.  The  wealth  of  the  world 
may  never  pour  its  golden  showers  into  his  lap.  He 
may  never  have  the  means  of  surrounding  himself  with 
the  comforts  and  embellishments  of  cultivated  society. 
He  may  not  be  able  to  silence  the  clamorous  cry  of 
want  in  his  own  dwelling.  He  may  even  be  as  desti- 
tute as  One  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  He 
may  toil  as  a  poor  laborer  all  his  life  long.  He  may 
never  find  the  rest  of  the  night  sufficient  for  the  weari- 
ness of  the  day.  He  may  lose  the  fruit  of  his  toil, 
and  his  earthly  expectations  may  be  cut  off.  After  all 
his  best  efforts,  he  may  only  receive  the  pity  of  the 
compassionate  and  the  contempt  of  the  proud. 

But  he  does  not  need  the  world's  pity.  He  is  not  a 
defeated  or  a  disappointed  man.  At  the  end  of  the 
great  conflict  of  life  he  is  sure  to  be  brought  off  con- 
queror and  more  than  conqueror.  In  the  final  day  the 
crown  of  victory  shall  be  awarded  him  in  the  presence 
of  the  assembled  generations  of  men. 

The  royal  cedar  of  Lebanon  is  exalted  like  a  mon- 
arch on  the  throne  of  the  mountains.  It  catches  the 
first  light  of  the  sun  in  his  rising,  and  it  is  the  last  to 
reflect  his  setting  beams.  It  defies  the  fury  of  a  thou- 
sand storms,  and  it  lives  on  in  the  freshness  of  youth 
through  a  thousand  years.  The  humble  hyssop  grows 
out  of  a  narrow  chink  in  the  wall,  and  it  dies  in  the 
first  frost.  And  yet  the  difference  between  the  two  is 
infinitely  less  than  the  difference  between  the  prospects 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  477 

of  the  lowliest  Christian  in  the  world  and  the  present 
glory  of  the  greatest  earthly  monarch. 

The  least  of  the  followers  of  Christ  has  entered  into 
alliance  with  infinite  power.  He  has  been  taken  under 
the  guidance  of  infinite  wisdom.  He  has  been  received 
as  a  child  by  the  adoption  of  infinite  love.  No  envious 
hand  can  blot  his  name  from  the  book  of  life.  He  can 
no  more  lose  his  inheritance  than  the  years  of  God's 
eternity  can  be  counted  or  the  resources  of  God's 
power  can  be  exhausted.  It  is  not  vanity  or  ignor- 
ance or  enthusiasm  which  leads  the  disciple  of  Christ 
to  glory  in  his  privileges  and  prospects.  He  has  been 
appointed  by  the  choice  of  the  Infinite  Mind  to  possess 
a  kingdom  and  to  enjoy  the  blessedness  which  shall 
continue  when  the  foundations  of  the  earth  are  broken 
up  and  the  material  heavens  have  passed  away.  On 
his  account  the  greatest  events  in  the  history  of  time 
were  ordained.  The  conquest  of  nations,  the  rise  of 
kingdoms,  the  casting  down  of  thrones,  are  things  of 
little  importance  in  the  destinies  of  the  universe  com- 
pared with  his  eternal  salvation.  To  accomplish  that 
the  Almighty  revealed  himself  unto  patriarchs,  prophets 
and  apostles.  For  his  instruction  the  record  of  the 
divine  will  was  given  by  the  pen  of  inspiration.  It 
was  for  his  sake  that  the  Son  of  God  came  forth 
from  the  bosom  of  the  Father  upon  the  mission  of 
mercy.  For  his  sake  the  Divine  Redeemer  entered 
into  conflict  with  the  great  enemy,  and  drank  the  cup 
of  human  woe  down  to  the  bitter  dregs  of  shame  and 


478  THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

agony  and  death.  It  is  so  great  a  thing  to  be  redeemed 
by  the  blood  of  Christ,  there  is  a  dignity  so  exalted,  an 
inheritance  so  great,  a  glory  so  far  above  all  the  pomp 
and  pride  of  earth,  conferred  upon  every  child  of  God, 
that  we  labor  in  vain  to  describe  his  privileges  and 
his  prospects  in  the  ordinary  forms  of  speech. 

The  high  and  firm  position  of  the  cedar,  as  it  once 
grew  in  Lebanon,  well  illustrates  the  life  of  the 
righteous  man  who  lives  above  the  world  and  holds 
fast  his  post  of  duty,  however  violent  the  storm  that 
attempts  to  cast  him  down.  "When  the  mists  of  the 
morning  darkened  the  plain  and  rolled  in  billowy 
torrents  through  the  valleys,  and  thick  rain-clouds 
covered  the  top  of  Carmel  and  brooded  over  the  distant 
sea,  then  still  the  royal  cedar  kept  its  high  throne  upon 
Lebanon,  rejoicing  in  the  clear,  calm  light,  and  antici- 
pating the  coming  of  the  cloudless  noon.  And  when 
the  wild  storm  came  rushing  down  through  all  the 
gorges  of  the  Syrian  mountains,  and  the  fir  trees 
crashed  and  the  oaks  of  Bashan  howled  beneath  the 
sounding  pinions  of  mighty  winds,  then  still  the  royal 
cedar  of  Lebanon,  strong  with  the  growth  of  a  thousand 
years,  fixed  the  grapple  of  its  deep  and  widespreading 
roots  upon  the  everlasting  rock  and  stood  firm.  The 
lonely  wanderer  among  the  mountains  was  safely 
sheltered  beneath  its  branches,  while  he  heard  the  roar 
of  the  tempest  and  traced  the  track  of  its  desolation 
afar. 

So  stands  the  righteous  man,  secure  and  serene,  upon 


THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON.  479 

tlie  high  post  of  duty.  The  light  of  heaven  is  around 
him,  and  the  peace  t)f  God  pervades  his  soul  when 
deep  darkness  settles  down  on  all  the  devices  of  wicked 
men  and  the  wild  tempests  of  revolution  shake  the 
nations.  He  goes  straight  forward  with  a  firm  step 
and  a  fearless  heart,  when  the  low  and  crooked  policy 
of  the  cunning  and  compromising  only  leads  on  to 
greater  dangers  and  worse  conclusions. 

The  light  of  heaven  will  always  shine  around  the 
head  of  him  who  keeps  himself  at  a  sufficiently  high 
and  commanding  position  above  the  world.  The  mount 
of  God  may  seem  to  the  sensual  and  the  murmuring 
multitude  in  the  distance  below  to  be  covered  with 
thick  darkness  and  shaken  with  angry  tempests.  But 
to  him  who  ascends  the  sacred  heights  upon  the  wings 
of  faith  and  prayer  the  whole  region  is  full  of  light. 
His  countenance  absorbs  the  radiance  of  the  heavenly 
day.  When  he  returns  to  the  world,  it  can  be  seen  in 
his  silent  look  that  he  has  been  talking  with  God  as 
friend  with  friend.  The  face  of  the  good  man  is  a 
mirror  to  receive  the  light  of  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness and  reflect  it  upon  a  darkened  world.  By  looking 
at  him  the  fearful,  the  benighted,  the  wandering  can 
always  see  that  the  true  light  shines,  though  it  may  be 
hidden  from  their  eyes.  It  is  the  decisive  test  of  a 
good  man  to  be  calm  in  the  midst  of  public  agitation, 
to  be  fearless  in  the  face  of  danger,  to  be  prompt  in  the 
discharge  of  duty,  to  live  every  day  in  the  celestial 
region  of  light  and  love,  above  all  the  doubts  and  fears 


480  THE  CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

and  cavils  of  the  world.  The  man  who  lives  thus 
preaches  righteousness  by  the  parity  of  his  own  life ; 
he  encourages  the  fearful  by  the  strength  of  his  own 
faith,  he  cheers  the  sorrowing  by  the  light  and  serenity 
of  his  own  countenance.  And  when  the  day  of  pecu- 
liar trial  comes  to  him,  and  temptations  assail  him  in  a 
fiery  shower,  and  afflictions  beat  upon  him  like  a  strong 
wind  to  cast  him  down,  then  still  he  stands,  like  the 
royal  cedar  upon  the  high  throne  of  Lebanon,  a  defence 
to  others  and  secure  in  himself,  proving  that  his  foun- 
dation is  the  holy  mountain  and  his  trust  is  in  the 
immutable  God. 

Stand,  then,  ye  servants  of  God,  ever  firm  upon  the 
post  of  duty,  amid  the  changing  and  passionate  multi- 
tude. Shine  forth  with  your  sacred  light,  that  wan- 
derers in  the  darkness  of  error  and  unbelief  may  see 
the  safe  path.  Stand,  like  the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  on 
the  storm-swept  mountain,  always  fresh  and  growing, 
full  of  life  and  firm  in  position,  giving  shelter  to  the 
weary  traveler  and  guiding  wanderers  on  the  distant 
sea.  Stand  fast  and  quit  you  like  men,  amid  all  the 
dangers  and  discouragements  of  the  time,  and  never 
bate  one  jot  of  heart  or  hope  that  the  whole  earth  shall 
be  adorned  with  a  beauty  surpassing  the  glory  of 
Lebanon,  and  every  waste  place  in  the  wilderness  shall 
bear  the  tree  of  life  and  become  as  the  Paradise  of 
God. 


We  all  do  Jade  as  a  leaf.-  -ISA.  Ixiv.  6. 


XXIV. 

THE  FADING  LEAF. 

HUNDEED  generations  of  men  have  appeared 
on  the  earth,  borne  their  part  in  the  stormy 
scenes  of  life,  and  passed  away  to  the  silent 
land,  blooming  and  fading  like  the  foliage  of 
each  successive  year,  since  the  great  prophet  of  Israel 
took  up  the  wail  that  had  come  down  to  him  from  as 
many  generations  in  the  past,  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a 
leaf."  And  still  our  hearts,  in  the  moments  of  sadness 
and  deep  thought,  can  find  no  better  utterance  than 
that  in  which  the  ancient  Hebrew  poured  forth  all  the 
sorrows  of  humanity  in  his  day.  And  this  melancholy 
sentiment  of  the  inspired  bard,  who  woke  the  harp  of 
Zion  to  the  sweetest  and  loftiest  strain  in  olden  time, 
becomes  the  song  of  universal  Nature  when  the  glory 
of  the  summer  is  past,  and  the  loitering  sun  rises  later 
every  morning,  and,  like  a  weary  traveler,  passes  earlier 
to  his  evening  rest. 

The  dying  year  sings  its  own  dirge  with  the  sweetest 
voice  and  it  puts  on  the  gayest  robes  when  all  the 
bright  children  of  the  sun  are  passing  away  in  long 
procession  to  the  tomb.  The  brilliant  hues  of  autumn 

483 


484  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

flame  out  in  the  dying  foliage  which  is  now  falling 
upon  our  city  walks.  The  sweet-scented  vine,  which 
has  been  creeping  slowly  all  summer  along  the  coping 
above  my  study  window  to  shield  me  kindly  from  the 
sun,  is  now  dropping  its  sear  leaves,  one  by  one,  and 
as  they  float  down  silently  through  the  still  air,  the 
moving  shadows  fall  upon  my  brow  where  time  makes 
its  mark  ;  and  when  my  fading  companions  of  the  sum- 
mer are  gone,  it  seems  as  if  their  hectic  hues  had  pho- 
tographed the  divine  words  upon  the  inner  chamber 
of  the  brain,  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf."  The  kind 
leaves  that  have  blessed  me  all  summer  with  their 
shade  cannot  go  away  to  mingle  with  the  dust  of  the 
grave  without  sending  in  a  silent  shadow  as  they  pass, 
to  remind  me  that  I  shall  soon  follow  them  to  the  house 
appointed  for  all  the  living. 

And  the  silent  sermon  which  the  falling  leaves 
preach  to  me  while  I  try  to  catch  its  expression  and 
pass  it  on  to  others,  is  repeated  millions  of  times  for  all 
who  will  listen  and  think  at  this  most  thoughtful  sea- 
son of  the  year.  Far  away  through  the  broad  country 
the  forests  and  the  fields  are  arrayed  in  splendors  like 
the  robes  of  the  morning,  when  curling  mists  crown 
the  mountain  and  sapphire  clouds  build  a  throne  for 
the  sun.  And  yet  all  these  brilliant  hues  are  signs  of 
decay  in  the  green  world  of  nature.  Its  dying  glories 
burn  like  the  spot  of  hectic  fire  on  the  pale  cheek  of  the 
consumptive,  the  fair  counterfeit  of  life  which  appears 
only  to  warn  us  that  death  is  near. 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  486 

uThe  parting  year 

Dies  like  the  dolphin,  whom  each  pang  imbues 
With  a  new  color,  as  it  gasps  away, 
The  last  still  loveliest,  till  'tis  gone  and  all  is  gray.'' 

The  hidden  and  mysterious  vitality  of  nature  de- 
clines slowly  from  the  high  noon  of  its  strength  and 
fervor  and  passes  away,  with  the  sweet  and  solemn  diige 
of  sighing  winds  and  the  melancholy  murmur  of  fall- 
ing leaves,  to  the  cold  grave  of  winter.  The  frosts  of 
every  night  and  the  chilling  blasts  of  each  successive 
day  send  a  countless  funeral  procession  of  summer's 
young  and  beautiful  children  to  moulder  back  to  the 
dust  from  which  they  so  lately  sprung.  The  provi- 
dential lessons  of  the  season  are  impressed  upon  our 
ininds  by  as  many  preachers  as  there  are  fading  leaves 
in  our  daily  walks.  The  appeal  to  our  hearts  is 
adorned  with  the  strange  fascination  of  dying  beauty, 
and  one  must  be  very  hard  and  insensible  not  to  feel 
its  power.  It  wails  forth  in  all  the  moaning  and 
melancholy  voices  which  chant  the  hymn  of  death  to 
the  dying  year.  And  the  word  of  divine  inspiration, 
speaking  in  the  name  of  Him  who  makes  summer  and 
winter,  commands  us  to  observe  and  heed  the  lesson 
which  God's  finger  writes  upon  the  fading  leaves.  We 
shall  find  that  the  two  voices  of  our  Father  speak  in 
unison  with  each  other,  whether  we  turn  to  the  written 
page  and  read,  or  only  look  in  silent  contemplation 
upon  the  solemn  procession  of  the  seasons  as  it  passes 
by  in  the  pomp  of  the  waning  year. 


486  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

Let  us  listen  with  devout  heart  and  attentive  mind 
to  the  sermon  of  the  season  upon  the  frail  and  transi- 
tory state  of  man  in  this  world.  Over  this  the  prophet 
poured  his  inspired  lamentation  in  ancient  time.  And 
in  every  age  and  in  every  land  it  has  been  a  subject 
for  every  preacher  and  a  sign  for  every  heart :  We  all 
do  fade  as  a  leaf.  The  generations  of  men  appear  and 
pass  away  like  the  foliage  of  each  successive  year.  We 
may  bask  a  little  longer  in  the  bright  sunshine,  we 
may  have  a  little  more  strength  to  buffet  the  storm. 
But  our  bodies  are  just  as  certain  to  moulder  down  to 
the  dust  as  the  leaves  which  we  see  falling  through  the 
silent  air  when  the  winds  are  hushed  and  all  nature 
sleeps  in  the  autumn  light.  We  tread  them  beneath 
our  feet,  just  as  future  generations  will  walk  over  our 
dust  without  knowing  that  we  once  lived.  Millions  of 
human  lives  are  shorter  than  the  life  of  the  leaves. 
Multitudes  wear  upon  their  countenances  through 
summer  and  winter  the  hectic  and  sickly  hues  which 
the  leaves  put  on  when  they  are  about  to  die.  We  are 
apt  to  be  surprised  and  alarmed  when  we  see  the  signs 
of  the  coming  change  upon  faces  where  we  have  seen  the 
glow  of  health.  And  yet  the  lesson  of  human  frailty 
has  been  taught  us  by  voices  as  numerous  as  the  falling 
leaves.  Every  year  God  clothes  the  forests  and  the 
fields  in  all  the  splendors  of  exuberant  life,  and  then 
lays  their  glorious  beauty  in  the  dust.  And  everything 
that  lives  and  dies  in  the  whole  kingdom  of  nature  is 
appointed  to  teach  us  that  we  too  must  die.  Every 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  487 

blade  of  grass  that  fades  in  the  broad  fields  of  the  open 
country,  every  withered  leaf  that  strews  the  forest 
walks,  every  naked  branch  in  the  streets  and  squares 
of  the  busy  city,  every  return  of  the  autumn's  melan- 
choly days,  every  change  through  which  we  are  swept 
on  in  the  varied  course  of  the  growing  and  dying  year 
repeats  to  man  the  sentence  pronounced  at  the  gate  of 
the  forfeited  'Paradise  :  "  Dust  thou  art  and  unto  dusi 
thou  shalt  return."  It  was  said  and  sung  three  thou- 
sand years  ago,  and  it  is  as  true  now  as  it  was  when 
Isaiah  prophesied  in  Judea  and  the  "monarch  min- 
strel "  swept  the  harp  of  Zion :  "  Man  cometh  forth  as  a 
flower  and  is  cut  down." 

A  wise  man,  in  making  plans  for  the  future,  will 
always  accept  as  a  condition  limiting  and  overruling 
all  others  the  fact  that  life  is  rapidly  passing  away, 
and  it  may  come  to  a  close  at  any  moment.  When 
we  busy  ourselves  most  in  providing  ease  and  comfort 
for  many  years,  a  solemn  voice  whispers  the  warning, 
"This  night  thy  soul  may  be  required  of  thee."  We 
are  all  like  soldiers  waiting  orders.  Whatever  en- 
gagements we  may  make  for  work  or  pleasure  in  this 
world,  they  are  all  liable  to  be  overruled  and  canceled 
at  any  moment  by  the  word  of  the  great  Commander. 
When  he  calls  we  must  leave  everything  and  go. 
His  summons  may  come  when  we  least  expect  it,  and 
we  must  not  be  so  busy  with  earthly  things  as  to  make 
it  hard  to  break  off  all  our  engagements  and  go  to  re- 
turn no  more.  We  are  strangers  and  sojourners  on 


488  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

the  earth,  as  were  all  our  fathers,  and  every  day's 
march  in  the  journey  of  life  brings  the  awful  shadow 
of  eternity  nearer.  The  farther  we  go  the  more  inter- 
est we  have  in  the  solemn  question,  What  lies  beyond, 
in  "  that  undiscovered  country  from  whose  bourne  no 
traveler  returns"  ?  Surely  it  is  not  unbecoming  in  me 
to  ask  often  and  with  earnestness,  What  lies  hidden 
in  the  dread  mystery  of  death  ?  what  condition  shall 
be  mine  in  the  infinite  realm  of  the  Hereafter  ?  Every 
year  of  life  it  seems  as  if  time  were  hurling  me  on 
with  a  swifter  wing.  The  ridge  of  the  mountain  is 
already  past,  and  while  the  ascent  on  the  morning  side 
was  slow,  the  shadows  of  evening  come  up  to  meet  me 
as  I  go  down,  and  shorten  the  day.  Many  who  started 
with  me  in  the  journey  have  fallen  out  of  the  ranks, 
and  all  of  us  who  still  live  are  moving  on,  as  soldiers 
move  in  the  charge  upon  the  battery  of  death,  parting 
with  comrades  at  every  step.  Every  feeling  of  weak- 
ness or  of  weariness  which  comes  over  us  in  the  way, 
every  new  pain  that  makes  itself  felt  in  any  part  of  our 
frame,  every  new  furrow  that  passing  time  ploughs 
upon  our  faces,  every  fading  and  falling  hair  upon  our 
heads,  takes  up  the  lamentation  of  the  prophet,  and 
says,  in  sympathy  with  the  dying  year,  "We  all  do 
fade  as  a  leaf." 

And  all  these  signs  are  sent  not  to  make  our  earthly 
life  a  melancholy  and  funeral  march  to  the  tomb,  but 
to  create  within  us  longings  and  preparations  for  our 
great  immortality.  Divine  Providence,  by  the  whole 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  489 

course  of  Nature,  and  the  divine  word  from  the  first  to 
the  last  page  would  teach  us  not  to  expend  our  great- 
est efforts  and  fix  our  fondest  expectations  -upon  pos- 
sessions that  glide  from  our  grasp  and  fade  from  our 
vision  like  the  vapors  of  the  morning.  And  the  sacred 
lesson  is  taught  in  such  a  variety  of  forms,  it  is  re- 
peated so  many  times,  that  we  may  not  be  taken  by 
surprise  and  filled  with  despair  when  the  killing  frost 
of  disappointment  and  death  withers  the  fresh  blos- 
soms and  blasts  the  unripe  fruit  of  our  earthly  joys. 

The  one  event  which  of  all  others  is  most  certain 
and  most  momentous  in  its  consequences  is  surely  the 
one  for  which  we  should  be  most  fully  and  constantly 
prepared.  The  servant  who  is  awake  and  watching 
for  the  return  of  his  Master  is  glad  to  hear  the  sound 
of  his  step  on  the  threshold  and  to  welcome  his  coming. 
It  is  only  the  careless  and  the  disobedient  who  are  filled 
with  terror  at  the  sound  of  the  Master's  voice.  When 
lie  sends  the  word  of  warning  and  of  promise,  saying, 
Surely  I  come  quickly,  the  hearts  of  his  waiting  ser- 
vants reply,  Even  so  come,  Lord  Jesus.  There  is  no 
fanaticism,  no  morbid  weariness  of  life,  in  holding  our- 
selves ready  to  welcome  the  speedy  coming  of  the 
Master.  If  we  take  this  life  for  what  it  is  worth,  if 
we  use  all  its  opportunities  in  preparing  for  another 
and  a  better  life  to  come,  we  shall  rejoice  to  know  that 
the  battle  is  fought  and  the  victory  won.  We  have 
lived  long  enough  when  we  have  lived  to  gain  life's 
great  end.  We  have  had  enough  of  the  possessions  of 


490  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

earth  when  we  have  made  them  the  means  of  securing 
for  ourselves  everlasting  habitations.  We  have  had 
enough  of  the  pleasures  of  earth  when  we  have  learned 
to  long  for  endless  joys  at  God's  right  hand.  We  have 
had  enough  of  the  sorrows  and  afflictions  of  earth  when 
our  chastened  and  weary  souls  are  ready  to  enter  into 
rest.  When  we  have  just  learned  to  live  well  in  this 
world,  then  is  the  good  time  to  die,  for  the  true  and  the 
blessed  living  is  all  to  come  for  ever  hereafter. 

Thus  the  intimations  of  coming  death  have  no  terror 
for  those  who  live  only  to  prepare  for  another  and  a 
better  life.  To  such  the  fading  of  the  leaf,  the  rapid 
succession  of  the  seasons,  the  decay  of  these  mortal 
bodies,  the  transitory  nature  of  all  earthly  things,  are 
welcome  signs  that  their  redemption  draweth  nigh. 
If  we  go  submissive  to  our  Father's  will,  the  afflictions 
that  multiply  and  the  burdens  that  grow  heavier  by 
the  way  are  only  milestones  upon  the  heavenward 
journey,  to  remind  us  that  we  are  drawing  nearer 
home  and  that  soon  we  shall  rest  in  our  Father's 
house. 

11 A  few  more  storms  shall  beat 

On  this  wild,  rocky  shore ; 
And  we  shall  be  where  tempests  cease, 

And  surges  swell  no  more. 
A  few  more  struggles  here, 

A  few  more  partings  o'er, 
A  few  more  toils,  a  few  more  tears, 

And  we  shall  weep  no  more." 

None  will  deny  that  the  fading  of  the  leaf  favors  a 


THE  FADING  LEAF. 

serious  and  thoughtful  frame  of  miud.  There  is  some- 
thing of  sadness  in  the  season  which  steals  over  our 
spirits,  and  makes  it  easier  for  us  to  contemplate  the 
great  realities  of  the  unseen  world.  It  is  not  mere 
fancy  or  sentimentalism  for  us  to  say  that  the  autumn 
winds  murmur  with  a  melancholy  strain.  The  leafless 
branches  of  the  forest  moan  as  if  bewailing  the  lost 
glories  of  summer.  To  the  pensive  mind  there  are 
many  appearances  that  speak  of  decay  and  death. 
There  are  many  sounds  that  seem  like  voices  from 
another  world.  Among  the  deepest  impressions  which 
I  received  from  Nature  in  early  life  I  remember  the 
moaning  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  autumn  woods.  It 
haunts  me  evermore  in  the  city  and  on  the  sea  and  in 
far-distant  lands,  and  it  seems  like  a  voice  that  recreates 
the  golden  visions  of  youth  and  calls  up  the  shadowy 
forms  in  the  world  of  dreams,  and  blends  all  sounds 
into  sweet  and  soul-subduing  harmonies. 

And  this  softened  and  melancholy  season  is  inter- 
posed between  the  luxuriance  of  summer  and  the  dead 
waste  of  winter  to  give  us  time  to  think  how  soon  the 
glory  of  earth  passes  away,  how  soon  the  winter  of 
death  comes  on,  and  how  necessary  it  is  for  us  to  fix 
our  hopes  upon  a  resurrection  and  a  new  life  beyond 
the  grave.  And  we  need  time  for  such  reflection. 
Our  life  in  this  world  is  not  all  given  us  for  action  in 
the  stirring  fields  of  enterprise,  and  then  for  useless 
rest  in  the  imbecility  of  exhausted  powers.  Between 
high  hope  and  complete  despair  there  is  a  space  for 


492  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

calm  and  serious  thought.  It  is  not  the  highest  hap- 
piness to  make  life  all  one  holiday  of  cheerful  and  de- 
lighted emotion.  It  is  not  all  an  affliction  to  have  the 
mind  drawn  to  solemn  and  subduing  meditation  upon 
the  great  realities  of  our  spiritual  being.  Whoever 
thinks  at  all  will  find  many  sad  things  to  think  of. 
Whoever  makes  the  best  use  of  his  eyes  will  see  many 
sad  sights  in  the  world  around  him.  And  the  hours 
which  most  enrich  and  satisfy  the  soul  are ,  not  the 
hours  of  gayety  or  of  gloom,  but  of  deep  and  earnest 
thought.  It  may  bring  a  shade  of  deep  seriousness 
upon  the  brow  to  think  reverently  of  God  and  of  the 
ever-impending  destiny  of  eternity.  But  there  is  more 
joy  in  that  solemnity  than  in  "the  loud  laugh  which 
speaks  the  vacant  mind."  When  we  are  suitably  in 
earnest  about  the  great  realities  of  our  being  and  des- 
tiny, we  shall  care  very  little  about  what  thoughtless 
people  call  pleasure. 

Every  thinking  man  should  wish  to  know  all  he  can 
about  the  Being  that  made  him ;  about  the  dark  and 
dreadful  power  which  makes  it  hard  to  think  of  God 
and  ourselves  as  we  ought;  about  the  shining  way 
which  leads  to  a  better  home,  and  which  is  open  for 
every  man  to  tread-;  about  the  sore  and  wearisome 
conflict  which  must  be  maintained  by  all  who  would 
win  the  crown  of  life ;  about  the  glorious  destiny  that 
is  opened  for  us  in  the  endless  future.  These  are 
things  that  equally  concern  us  all,  and  we  should  be 
thankful  for  any  voice,  any  influence,  any  season,  that 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  493 

helps  us  to  think  about  them.  If  we  take  these  things 
to  heart,  and  act  in  view  of  the  infinite  interests  which 
they  set  before  us,  happiness  will  be  the  consequence 
without  our  seeking  for  it.  And  it  is  very  unwise  and 
very  unsafe  for  any  man  to  shut  his  eyes  and  stop  his 
ears  and  go  stumbling  on  till  he  falls  into  his  own 
grave,  all  the  while  confessing  that  there  are  some 
things  of  infinite  moment  to  himself  of  which  he  can- 
not bear  to  think,  and  which  he  would  rather  others 
would  not  name  to  him. 

The  botanist  gets  a  great  name  by  studying  the 
form  and  life  of  leaves  that  live  but  a  year.  But  in 
the  whole  immensity  of  the  material  creation  there  is 
nothing  so  great,  so  awful,  so  incomprehensible  as  the 
human  soul.  If  you  would  be  lost  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  infinite  mystery,  you  have  only  to  shut  your 
eyes  and  think  of  yourself.  In  the  study  of  your  own 
spiritual  being,  in  the  endeavor  to  grasp  the  grand 
conditions  of  your  own  duty  and  destiny  for  ever,  you 
have  something  to  think  of  that  will  task  all  your 
powers  and  supply  you  with  more  thrilling  personal 
interest  than  all  the  great  events  of  this  earthly  life. 
The  secret  history  of  one  human  soul,  could  it  all  be 
written  out  and  emblazoned  before  the  sun,  would  be 
more  thrilling  than  the  life  of  Csesar  or  Napoleon. 
The  great  masters  of  fiction  excite  the  wonder  and 
applause  of  millions  by  only  revealing  a  little  of  what 
lies  hidden  in  every  human  heart.  And  the  bare  fact 
that  the  awful  tragedy  of  existence  is  in  perpetual 


494  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

representation  within  our  own  souls,  and  is  hurrying 
swiftly  on  to  the  last  determinative  act,  should  make 
us  serious  and  thoughtful  as  we  pursue  the  journey 
of  life.  ' 

The  fall  of  the  leaf  should  teach  us  so  to  live  that 
the  beauty  and  excellence  of  our  lives  shall  shine  forth 
with  peculiar  brightness  when  we  come  to  die.  The 
forests  put  on  their  most  glorious  beauty  when  the 
leaves  begin  to  fall.  Traveling  at  this  season  in  our 
Northern  States,  under  the  sacred  and  dreamy  spell  of 
the  October  days,  I  have  often  seemed  to  myself  to  be 
ranging  on  through  some  vast  gallery  of  art,  where 
mountains  rise  on  either  hand  to  supply  walls  on  which 
to  hang  the  ever-unrolling  canvas,  and  stretching 
away  mile  after  mile  and  league  after  league,  through 
winding  valleys  and  over  lofty  ridges,  extends  the 
interminable  panorama;  and  every  successive  scene 
displays  new  riches  of  infinitely  diversified  and  daz- 
zling beauty,  such  as  no  artist's  hand  could  imitate,  no 
tasteful  eye  could  weary  in  beholding.  The  "  gorgeous 
East"  never  clothed  its  kings  in  robes  of  such  surpass- 
ing splendor  as  the  wild  forests  of  the  North  put  on 
when  the  autumn  winds  begin  to  strew  the  foliage  of 
summer  upon  the  grave  of  the  dying  year.  I  am  told 
that  an  English  gentleman  paid  an  American  artist 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  for  a  few  square  feet  of 
painted  canvas,  on  which  he  had  delineated  a  feeble 
and  puny  imitation  of  the  autumn  woods  and  wild 
mountains  of  this  Western  World.  The  Divine  Artist 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  495 

exhibits  the  original,  in  all  its  magnificence  of  extent 
and  perfection  of  beauty  every  year,  to  everybody,  for 
nothing.  It  seems  as  if  the  gates  of  heaven  had  been 
opened  and  all  the  splendors  of  the  Golden  City  had 
been  showered  upon  our  autumn  woods,  and  then,  after 
a  brief  exhibition,  the  vision  of  beauty  had  been  re 
ceived  up  again  into  heaven,  that  it  might  draw  our 
hearts  to  that  bright  land  where  beauty  never  fades  and 
the  living  never  die. 

And  if  God  adorns  the  decay  of  nature  with  such 
ineffable  splendor,  much  more  may  we,  standing  at  the 
head  of  this  lower  creation,  aspire  to  make  the  close  of 
our  earthly  life  glorious  and  beautiful  exceedingly. 
This  aspiration  has  been  often  realized  in  the  dying 
experience  of  those  who  had  clothed  themselves  in 
robes  of  righteousness  and  walked  humbly  with  God. 
The  prophet  of  old,  after  a  life  of  toil  and  conflict,  was 
carried  to  heaven  in  a  chariot  of  fire.  The  face  of  the 
first  martyr  shone  with  such  exceeding  brightness 
that  even  his  adversaries  saw  it  as  it  had  been  the 
face  of  an  angel.  When  the  frail  and  suffering  body 
is  wasting  away  with  disease,  the  soul  that  rests  upon 
Jesus  sometimes  seems  to  become  transfigured  by  faith 
and  to  shine  forth  with  a  heavenly  light.  The  depart- 
ing believer  speaks  as  if  he  had  learned  the  lan- 
guage of  heaven  from  the  guardian  spirits  that  keep 
watch  around  his  dying  bed.  Many  a  parent's  heart 
has  been  comforted  in  the  loss  of  a  little  child  by  the 
remembrance  of  the  voice  that  died  away  in  song,  and 


496 


THE  FADING  LEAF. 


the  unearthly  light  that  shone  upon  the  face  where 
death  had  set  its  seal.  Many  times  have  I  seen  the 
servant  of  God  chastened  in  spirit  and  beautified  with 
the  expression  of  heavenly  peace  in  his  countenance, 
and  passing  away  as  the  year  goes  to  its  grave  with  all 
the  glories  of  autumn  in  its  train. 

There  is  no  endowment  of  genius,  no  lofty  and  impas- 
sioned utterance  of  human  speech,  which  will  make  the 
close  of  life  so  beautiful,  so  glorious  as  it  will  seem  to 
you  when  you  stand  by  the  bedside  of  your  dying 
friend  and  see  him  bear  all  his  sufferings  without  a 
murmuring  word,  surrender  all  earthly  attachments 
without  regret,  calmly,  trustingly  commend  himself  to 
the  redeeming  mercy,  and  so  fall  asleep  in  Jesus.  The 
Christian  family,  whose  members  are  thus  going,  one 
by  one,  in  peace  and  triumph,  from  the  earthly  house 
to  the  house  of  many  mansions  on  high,  feel  that 
heaven  and  earth  are  but  a  little  way  apart,  and  that 
they  have  friends  and  familiar  acquaintances  in  both. 
And  every  time  the  close  of  a  human  life  in  this  world 
is  adorned  with  the  beauty  of  peace  and  the  glory  of 
faith,  death  is  disarmed  of  its  sting,  the  victory  is  won 
from  the  grave,  the  blessed  life  is  brought  so  near  that 
the  living  own  its  worth  and  feel  its  power. 

We  are  all  moving  on  in  the  same  great  procession 
to  that  unseen  land  from  which  none  return.  And  it 
is  not  necessary  for  us  to  go  like  unwilling  captives, 
bound  to  the  chariot-wheel  of  all-conquering  death. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  us  to  lift  up  our  voices  in  wail- 


THE  FADING  LEAF.  497 

ing  and  terror  when  the  messenger  comes  to  call  us 
away.  If  we  trust  in  Christ,  who  giveth  us  the  victory, 
our  departure  will  be  a  triumphal  march  and  the  close 
of  life  will  be  a  coronation.  Oh  who  would  not  wish 
to  have  the  last  stages  of  his  earthly  journey  adorned 
with  the  surpassing  grace  and  glory  of  Christian  hope  ? 
Who  would  not  choose  to  pass  away  in  light  and  joy 
as  the  leaves  put  on  their  loveliest  hues  when  about  to 
die — as  the  morning  star  melts  into  the  superior  glory 
of  the  coming  sun — as  the  rosy  dawn  brightens  into  the 
full  day  ?  Who  would  not  wish  in  dying  to  take  away 
the  terror  of  death  from  the  living,  and  to  leave  others 
to  say,  "  Let  my  last  end  be  like  his  ?" 

All  this  every  one  can  do.  The  most  glorious 
victory — the  victory  over  death — is  not  one  which  great 
conquerors  and  mighty  captains  alone  can  gain.  The 
hand  of  a  little  child  can  strike  the  crown  from  the 
head  of  the  king  of  terrors.  The  gifts  of  the  divine 
love  which  will  fill  our  hearts  with  peace  and  clothe 
our  countenances  with  light  in  the  final  hour  are  freely 
offered  to  all.  If  we  live  unto  God,  we  shall  find  it 
easy  to  die  unto  him.  A  peaceful  and  happy  death  is 
the  natural  close  of  a  life  well  spent.  If  we  walk  with 
Christ  and  delight  ourselves  with  his  company  while 
the  pleasures  and  temptations  of  the  world  are  around 
us,  he  will  not  forsake  us  when  the  world  has  lost  its 
charm.  He  will  clothe  us  in  the  robes  of  his  own 
divine  and  perfect  righteousness,  and  we  shall  find  our- 
selves at  home  among  the  princes  of  heaven. 

2P 


498  THE  FADING  LEAF. 

]0F  * 

Every  time  the  year  rolls  round  and  clothes  the 
forests  and  the  fields  in  the  hectic  hues  of  autumn,  we 
are  warned  and  entreated  by  ten  thousand  voices  to  be 
in  readiness  for  a  peaceful  and  triumphant  departure 
out  of  the  world.  The  transient  beauty  of  the  fading 
leaves,  the  melancholy  voices  of  the  moaning  winds,  the 
many  monitions  of  our  frail  and  mortal  state,  all  urge 
us  to  put  on  immortal  beauty,  to  lay  up  imperishable 
treasures,  to  make  sure  of  eternal  life.  The  leaves  fall 
when  they  have  done  their  work,  and  the  branches  are 
left  free  for  the  growth  of  another  year.  The  faded 
foliage  of  autumn  will  be  replaced  by  the  bloom  and 
luxuriance  of  returning  spring.  The  decay  of  the 
passing  year  will  support  the  life  of  a  more  abundant 
vegetation  in  the  next.  So,  if  we  live  to  do  God's  will, 
he  will  take  from  us  the  fading  beauty  and  the  tran- 
sient joys  of  earth  only  to  confer  upon  us  a  far  more 
exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  He  will  not 
remove  a  single  earthly  blessing  too  soon.  He  will  not 
suffer  any  of  our  present  treasures,  opportunities  or 
enjoyments  to  be  lost,  if  only  we  use  them  in  making 
our  souls  pure  and  beautiful  in  his  sight.  The  good 
man  cannot  die  too  soon — he  cannot  live  too  long ;  for 
the  measure  of  his  days  is  with  One  who  makes  no 
mistakes  in  counting.  He  cannot  want  for  time  to  do 
his  work  and  do  it  well. 


darfait  of 


Tke  Lot  i  God  planted  a  garden  eastward  in  Eden  .  and  the  Lord  God 
took  the  man  and  put  him  into  the  garden  of  Edvn+  to  dress  it  and  to  keep 
it.— GEN.  ii.  8,  15. 


XXV. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

MONG  all  nations  and  in  all  times  there  have 
been  beautiful  legends  and  blessed  memories  of 
a  glory  that  once  shone  on  the  earth  with  the 
fullness  of  heavenly  light.  It  has  ever  been 
supposed  that  all  things  were  fair  and  lovely  in  the 
fresh  morning  of  the  world,  and  every  voice  sang  for 
joy  when  the  heir  of  earth  entered  upon  his  great 
inheritance.  The  all-creating  Father  took  the  hand 
of  his  earthly  child  and  walked  with  him,  "  teaching 
him  to  go,"  in  the  brightness  of  the  broad  noon  and  in 
the  coolness  of  the  forest  shade.  The  sun  shone  upon 
genial  landscapes  and  gentle  homes,  and  the  silent  stars 
looked  down  upon  sleeping  innocence  and  secure 
repose. 

Between  heaven  and  earth  the  flow  of  thought  and 
sympathy  was  free  as  the  flight  of  angels  and  constant 
as  the  succession  of  day  and  night.  The  homes  of 
men  were  not  yet  haunted  by  the  shadowy  forms  of 
fear.  The  thorns  of  regret  had  not  yet  grown  in  the 
path  of  pleasure.  Sin  had  not  mingled  the  poison  of 
death  in  the  full  cup  of  life.  The  inner  chambers  of 

501 


502  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

the  soul  were  all  open  to  heaven's  light.  The  sun  of 
peace  and  gladness  was  never  hidden  by  the  cloud  of 
care  and  pain  and  sorrow.  Man  talked  with  God  in 
open  vision,  as  friend  with  friend,  and  he  lived  in 
daily  companionship  with  the  blessed.  The  poets  of 
every  land  have  sung  their  sweetest,  saddest  strains 
when  lamenting  the  lost  glory  of  that  happy  age,  and 
the  toiling  millions  of  mankind  have  mourned  over 
their  hard  lot,  as  the  caged  bird  mourns  in  remem- 
brance of  the  wild  woods  and  the  slave  groans  under 
the  burden  of  inherited  bondage. 

These  faint  beams  of  a  glory  that  has  past  away 
from  the  earth  are  found  among  the  traditions  of  all 
nations ;  they  can  be  traced  back  to  the  earliest  periods 
of  human  history.  Though  darkened  with  many 
errors  and  superstitions,  they  point  to  a  common  origin, 
and  they  spring  from  the  actual  and  inspired  history 
of  man's  first  days  on  the  earth.  That  better  state,  so 
brief  in  duration,  so  far  away  in  the  past,  is  fully 
described  by  the  meaning  of  the  one  word — "  Eden" — a 
garden  of  delight,  a  Paradise  of  loveliness  and  purity. 
By  common  consent  the  name  stands  for  riches  without 
want,  health  without  sickness,  pleasure  without  pain, 
joy  without  sorrow,  life  without  death.  Wherever 
men  can  now  find  a  region  having  most  of  what  all 
desire  and  least  of  what  all  dread,  they  call  it  Eden. 

In  such  a  home,  surrounded  with  beauty  and  loaded 
with  blessing,  man  woke  to  conscious  being  when  the 
Lord  God  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life, 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD.  503 

and  he  became  a  living  soul.  The  first  father  of  our 
race  knew  nothing  of  the  helplessness  of  infancy.  He 
started  upon  the  career  of  immortality  in  the  strength 
and  fullness  of  perfect  manhood.  In  the  first  moment 
of  self-scrutiny  he  found  himself  everything  that  he 
would  desire  to  be,  with  no  feeling  or  suspicion  that 
anything  had  been  omitted  or  overdone  in  the  selection 
and  finish  of  his  faculties.  As  the  bird  could  wish  it- 
self to  be  nothing  else  than  what  it  was  when  bursting 
forth  upon  the  wing,  so  the  first  man  could  find  no 
defect  in  the  constitution  of  his  being.  The  whole 
creation  around  him  was  pronounced  very  good  by 
Him  whose  standard  is  infinite  perfection,  and  man 
was  the  last  and  best  work  of  all. 

The  flowers  that  bloomed  on  the  banks  of  the  four- 
fold river  of  Paradise,  the  forests  that  clothed  the  hills 
and  climbed  the  distant  mountain  sides,  the  singing 
birds  that  lifted  the  sweet  incense  of  song  highest  into 
the  dome  of  heaven,  the  splendors  that  poured  from  the 
open  gates  of  the  morning,  and  the  golden  hues  that 
robed  the  setting  day,  were  all  what  God  made  them  to 
be  in  beauty  and  in  use  the  first  day  of  their  exist- 
ence, and  man  himself  was  the  crowning  glory  of  the 
whole,  the  consummation  of  all  completeness,  the  last 
and  grandest  achievement  of  infinite  wisdom  and  in- 
finite power  in  the  work  of  creation. 

The  first  rose  that  bloomed  in  Eden  was  mature  and 
perfect  on  the  day  of  its  appearance.  The  grape  was 
already  hanging  on  the  vine,  and  the  fig  was  formed 


604  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

upon  the  tree ;  the  goodly  feathers  adorned  the  ostrich, 
and  the  tawny  lion  "shook  his  brinded  mane;7'  the 
mighty  oak  and  the  mountain  pine  rose  to  their  loftiest 
height  in  the  same  day  that  the  Lord  God  made  them 
from  the  dust  of  the  earth.  They  did  not  grow  up  at 
first  by  slow  development  from  germs  and  atoms. 
Every  race  started  with  a  full  grown  and  perfect  life. 
All  this  is  implied  in  the  simple  statement  of  the  in- 
spired record,  that  the  Lord  God  planted  the  garden 
and  made  it  complete  before  delivering  it  into  the 
hands  of  its  new  possessor.  It  was  fitting  that  the 
Creative  Power,  in  bringing  new  classes  of  beings  upon 
the  earth,  should  start  them  in  their  generations  at  the 
highest  perfection. 

And  so  man  began  his  existence  on  the  earth  at  the 
very  highest  grade  of  human  power  and  excellence. 
The  utmost  that  the  race  could  do  in  all  subsequent 
time  would  be  to  equal  the  first  perfect  man  as  God 
made  him.  He  was  not  left  to  roam  the  wilderness  in 
search  of  food  and  to  seek  a  shelter  in  the  caves  of  the 
earth.  The  idea  that  the  first  man  was  a  savage,  and 
that  his  first  home  was  with  the  brutes,  is  a  fable  of 
heathen  poets  or  an  invention  of  misnamed  philosophy, 
having  no  foundation  in  reason  or  revelation.  The 
highest  attainment  of  modern  culture  is  only  an  im- 
perfect return  to  the  blessed  age,  when  the  human  mind 
was  taught  directly  by  divine  inspiration,  and  every 
faculty  was  fresh  and  free  to  range  through  all  the 
works  of  God. 


THE  GAEDEN  OF  GOD.  505 

The  first  home  which  the  heavenly  Father  gave  his 
earthly  child  was  in  a  garden  of  delight — a  paradise 
of  loveliness  and  beauty.  The  Lord  God  selected  the 
site  and  planted  the  garden  with  his  own  hand. 
Along  the  shaded  walks  and  winding  streams  he  set 
the  fruitful  trees  and  hung  the  climbing  vines.  He 
chose  every  shade  and  shape  of  leaf  and  flower  to  make 
them  pleasant  to  the  eye.  He  gave  the  form  and 
flavor  of  fruit  such  as  should  satisfy  both  the  desire 
for  beauty  and  the  appetite  for  food.  Within  that 
sacred  conservatory  the  first  man  could  survey  the 
most  rare  and  beautiful  productions  in  the  whole 
vegetable  world,  collected  and  ranged  in  order  by  his 
Divine  Teacher  for  him  to  study  and  admire.  The 
towering  cedar  crowned  the  distant  heights,  the 
branching  banyan  spread  its  "pillared  shade  high 
overarched"  along  the  quiet  walk;  the  tufted  palm 
waved  its  feathery  fronds  in  the  evening  wind, 
when  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  was  heard  walking 
among  the  trees  of  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the 
day. 

The  wild  beasts  were  moved  by  divine  impulse  to 
present  themselves  in  peaceful  homage  before  their 
human  lord  and  receive  such  names  as  he  would  give. 
Bright  birds  flashed  like  meteors  among  the  branches 
of  the  dim  woods.  The  wildest  were  tame  in  the 
presence  of  man,  and  all  came  with  beauty  and  song 
to  receive  his  praise  and  to  adorn  his  garden  of  de- 
light. Dominion  was  given  unto  him  over  all  the 


506  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

living  tribes  of  the  earth,  and  he  was  inspired  with 
skill  to  exercise  that  dominion  so  far  as  to  make  the 
bird  and  the  beast  obey  him.  The  names  which  he 
gave  to  the  multitude  of  living  creatures  indicated  a 
knowledge  of  their  habits  and  instincts  more  precise 
and  significant  than  the  dry  and  studied  terms  of 
modern  science.  The  wild  man  of  the  West  named  the 
bright  cascade  Minnehaha,  that  the  word  might  bring 
to  mind  the  merry  sound  of  "the  laughing  water." 
And  so  the  names  which  were  given  to  the  winds,  the 
clouds,  the  rivers,  the  forests,  the  beasts,  the  birds,  by 
the  inspired  man  in  Paradise  were  all  significant  of  the 
objects  to  which  they  were  given.  The  most  obvious 
and  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  bird  or  flower  was 
conveyed  by  the  sound  and  sense  of  its  name.  If  we 
could  still  speak  the  language  of  Eden,  our  children 
would  learn  the  qualities  of  things  from  the  names 
they  bear. 

God  himself  was  the  teacher  of  the  first  man,  and 
under  the  instruction  of  Omniscience  the  pupil  was  con- 
ducted at  once  through  the  whole  range  of  knowledge 
by  special  inspiration.  The  Almighty  Father  spoke  to 
his  earthly  child  with  a  human  voice,  and  so  man 
learned  to  speak.  In  the  beginning  of  language,  man 
received  every  word  from  the  mouth  of  the  Lord.  The 
vocal  sounds  which  give  the  names  of  things,  the  forms 
and  inflections  of  words  which  express  connected 
thought,  were  never  invented  by  man  or  created  by 
necessity.  They  were  given  as  truly  as  were  the  fac- 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD.  507 

ulties  of  the  mind  and  the  organs  of  the  body.  No 
effort  or  want  or  invention  of  man  could  have  created 
the  organs  of  speech.  Just  as  little  could  he  orig- 
inate language  itself.  It  must  be  given  by  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  Almighty  or  he  would  be  speechless  for 
ever. 

And  the  first  language  spoken  by  man  was  the  best, 
because  it  came  fresh  and  living  from  the  mouth  of 
God.  The  perfection  of  the  first  speech  was  corre- 
spondent to  the  perfection  of  the  first  man.  The  many 
languages  now  spoken  on  the  earth  compared  with 
the  first  are  only  as  the  shining  fragments  of  a  broken 
vase  compared  with  the  beautiful  whole.  The  frag- 
ments are  not  only  irregular  and  incomplete,  but  they 
have  been  scattered  in  the  dust  and  soiled.  Taken 
piece  by  piece  and  polished  with  ever  so  careful  a  hand, 
we  can  only  guess  at  the  primitive  meaning  of  the  part 
— we  can  never  reconstruct  the  perfect  whole. 

All  the  philosophers  in  the  world  could  not  create  a 
language,  any  more  than  they  could  create  a  man.  They 
can  only  take  what  has  been  given  by  God,  and  the 
gift  itself  as  now  received  marred  with  all  of  man's  im- 
perfections. The  child  learns  to  speak  only  by  hear- 
ing others  speak.  If  the  whole  race  were  struck  dumb, 
or  one  generation  should  grow  up  without  hearing  a 
word  spoken,  language  would  be  lost  to  the  earth,  and 
it  could  be  recovered  only  by  direct  inspiration  from 
the  Almighty.  All  our  attempts  to  refine  and  improve 
language  are  only  slight  approaches  toward  the  power 


508  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

and  the  purity  with  which  the  first  man  was  taught  to 
speak  with  his  Maker  in  the  garden  of  delight. 

The  first  man  had  a  home  suited  to  his  wants  and 
gratifying  to  his  taste.  The  first  human  habitation  was 
built  by  Him  who  built  the  worlds.  The  Divine  Ar- 
chitect, who  made  the  delicate  and  'beautiful  frame  of 
the  human  body  for  the  soul  to  dwell  in,  would  not 
leave  his  matchless  work  naked  and  houseless,  to  be 
burnt  by  the  sun  and  chilled  by  the  night,  to  be 
parched  by  the  winds  and  beaten  by  the  storms.  The 
first  pair  were  provided  with  shelter  and  covering 
suited  to  the  genial  clime  and  primitive  state.  The 

nakedness  of  which  the  inspired  record  speaks  must 

• 

refer  to  lightness  and  simplicity  of  clothing,  rather  than 
utter  destitution.  The  first  day  man  walked  forth  in 
hih  resplendent  and  divine  beauty  through  Paradise 
he  must  have  had  covering  for  the  body  and  protection 
foi  the  feet,  otherwise  his  first  experience  would  have 
been  pain,  and  he  would  have  laid  down  wearied  and 
wounded  to  his  first  night's  repose.  He  must  have 
had  a  better  couch  than  the  bare  earth,  and7  a  more 
suitable  home  than  a  cave  in  the  forest,  else  the  birds 
would  have  mourned  in  pity  for  their  lord,  and  the  lot 
of  the  wild  beast  would  have  been  better  than  his. 
The  first  perfect  man,  the  lord  of  the  earth,  must  have 
had  a  habitation  suited  to  his  royal  rank,  and  robes  of 
divine  workmanship  to  adorn  his  kingly  state,  and  im- 
plements of  husbandry  made  for  his  use  in  the  conge- 
nial work  of  dressing  the  garden  and  keeping  it.  It 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD.  509 

would  have  been  impossible  for  the  first  pair  to  pre- 
serve their  lives  in  Paradise  itself,  had  not  the  all-cre- 
ating Father  crowned  his  great  work  by  giving  them 
every  instrument  and  every  instruction  needed  to 
maintain  their  high  estate  of  purity,  knowledge  and 
dominion  over  all  the  earth. 

I  make  no  account  of  the  theories  and  speculations 
of  philosophers  who  maintain  that  the  civilized  man 
of  modern  times  arose  by  slow  degrees  from  the  savage 
state,  and  more  remotely  from  the  race  of  brutes.  They 
are  so  anxious  to  exclude  the  interference  of  a  free  and 
sovereign  will  from  the  established  system  of  the  uni- 
verse that,  in  doing  so,  they  exclude  themselves  from 
the  proper  rank  and  dignity  of  man.  They  would  rather 
confess  themselves  to  have  sprung  from  the  lowest  class 
of  brutes  than  to  admit  that  the  order  of  the  universe 
is  due  to  the  continued  and  voluntary  choice  of  one 
infinite  and  all-wise  Creator. 

And  yet  these  wise  men  confute  themselves.  For 
they  claim  that  no  force  can  be  created,  no  new  element 
of  power  can  be  added  to  that  which  has  come  from 
the  Unknown,  and  which  governs  the  world.  They 
tell  us  that  the  grand  machine  of  the  universe,  having 
been  once  mysteriously  wound  up,  is  all  the  while  run- 
ning down.  The  stream  of  human  history  cannot  rise 
higher  than  the  fountain-head.  And  therefore,  by 
their  own  showing,  the  human  race  must  have  started 
upon  a  higher  plane  of  power  and  intelligence  than 
has  ever  been  reached  in  the  subsequent  ages  of  toil 


510  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

and  darkness  and  decline.  And  this  is  the  teaching  of 
divine  revelation. 

The  first  man  that  was  made  to  have  dominion  over 
all  of  God's  works  in  this  world  was  first  of  the  race 
in  the  excellency  of  power,  intelligence  and  likeness 
unto  his  Maker.  The  progress  of  all  modern  times, 
guided  by  the  supernatural  light  and  grace  of  Chris- 
tianity, has  only  been  a  struggle  to  recover  the  lost 
power  and  intelligence  that  were  given  to  the  first  man 
in  Paradise.  All  our  schools  and  colleges,  all  our 
science  and  culture,  all  our  arts  and  inventions,  are 
worth  less  to  us  in  our  time  than  were  the  instructions 
of  the  Divine  Teacher  to  the  first  man  in  the  garden 
of  delight. 

The  brute  tribes  came  to  him  in  willing  subjection ; 
we  can  only  imperfectly  tame  and  subdue  them  by  long 
and  patient  discipline.  The  mysterious  powers  of 
nature  unfolded  their  secret  properties  for  his  pleasure 
and  advantage ;  we  subject  every  substance  to  the  fire 
of  the  furnace  and  the  shock  of  the  battery ;  we  toil  all 
day  and  outwatch  the  stars  by  night,  and  we  can  learn 
only  a  little  about  the  great  forces  that  are  at  work  all 
around  us.  The  Lord  God  planted  his  garden  home, 
and  gathered  around  him  in  perfect  harmony  of 
arrangement  all  trees  and  flowers  that  were  most 
excellent  in  beauty  and  profitable  for  use ;  we  plough 
the  field  and  dig  the  garden  in  the  sweat  of  our  brow, 
and  all  successful  culture  must  be  a  constant  struggle 
against  the  growth  of  the  bad  and  the  decay  of  the 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD.  511 

good  in  the  kingdom  of  Nature.  Every  word  in  the 
primitive  language  which  the  first  man  learned  from 
his  Maker  was  the  choicest  symbol  of  the  thing 
described  or  the  thought  expressed.  We  can  seldom 
tell  the  origin  of  the  simplest  word,  or  give  any  reason 
why  it  should  have  one  signification  rather  than 
another.  The  first  implements  which  he  employed  in 
his  garden  work  were  made  by  the  Divine  Hand,  and 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  went  with  him  to  teach  him 
how  to  use  them.  He  learned  the  properties. of  plants 
and  the  culture  of  the  soil — not,  as  we  must,  by  long 
and  costly  experiments,  but  by  open  converse  with  Him 
who  made  everything  grow  out  of  the  ground.  What- 
ever he  needed  to  know,  whatever  question  his  pure 
heart  prompted  him  to  ask,  there  was  a  Divine  Teacher 
by  his  side  to  solve  every  doubt  and  to  communicate 
more  than  he  sought.  And  besides,  every  organ  of 
his  frame  was  sound  and  strong,  every  faculty  of  his 
mind  was  fresh  and  free,  every  sensibility  of  his  soul 
was  quick  with  life. 

And  so  lived  the  great  first  father  of  mankind  in  his 
garden  home  while  the  happy  days  of  innocence  lasted, 
and  the  holy  heavens  looked  down  upon  a  new  world 
of  purity  and  love.  To  the  first  created  man  was 
given  a  companion  correspondent  to  him  in  nature 
and  his  counterpart  in  affection.  Hand  in  hand  the 
blessed  pair  walked  through  the  green  fields  and  shaded 
aisles  of  Eden,  conversing  in  language  which  both  had 
learned  from  the  mouth  of  God,  as  angels  walk  by  the 


512  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

River  of  Life  in  the  Paradise  above.  Birds  of  the 
sweetest  song  joined  with  them  in  their  morning  hymn 
of  praise.  Flowers  of  the  sweetest  perfume  shed 
incense  on  their  path.  Celestial  harmonies  murmured 
in  the  air.  Guardian  spirits  kept  their  repose  by 
night.  The  Son  of  God  appeared  in  form  like  their 
own,  and  poured  into  their  attentive  ear,  fast  as  they 
could  receive  it,  the  knowledge  of  all  things  in  heaven 
and  earth. 

Such  was  man's  first  home  in  the  garden  of  delight ; 
such  the  freedom  and  high  command  which  he  enjoyed 
in  the  paradisiacal  state.  Alas !  for  him  that  he  should 
ever  lose  that  blest  abode !  Alas !  for  us  that  the  lost 
Paradise  should  be  so  hard  to  regain !  And  yet  it  is 
not  so  much  change  of  place  that  we  need  as  change 
of  heart.  If  Eden  still  remained,  with  all  its  prim- 
itive beauty,  and  the  flaming  sword  of  the  cherubim 
were  lifted  from  the  guarded  gate  that  we  might  enter 
and  reclaim  the  lost  possession,  it  would  not  be  to  us  a 
garden  of  delight  unless  the  innocence  of  the  first  man 
were  ours.  Long  and  dark  as  have  been  the  ages  of 
sin  and  sorrow  since  Adam  fell,  the  pure  in  heart  can 
still  see  God.  If  we  should  wander  the  earth  over, 
and  sound  the  deep  and  question  the  stars  in  search  of 
the  joys  of  Eden,  we  should  find  them  only  in  the 
Paradise  of  the  pure  heart.  Long  as  have  been  the 
woes  of  exile  from  the  garden  of  delight  which  God 
planted  for  man's  first  home,  deep  and  dark  as  have 
been  the  shadows  which  have  fallen  upon  every  path 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD.  513 

trodden  by  human  feet,  the  Holy  One  still  dwells  with 
the  humble  and  contrite — guardian  angels  still  keep 
the  home  of  those  who  walk  with  God. 

The  whole  purpose  of  divine  revelation  is  to  open  a 
way  for  the  wandering  to  come  back,  to  convince  the 
doubting,  the  fearful  and  the  despondent  that  their 
injured  Father  desires  their  return.  The  whole  book 
of  God,  from  beginning  to  end,  is  a  continual  cry  unto 
the  children  of  men,  "Return  unto  me  and  I  will 
return  unto  you."  And  God  orders  the  whole  course 
of  his  all-teaching  and  eternal  Providence  to  confirm 
the  voice  of  a  Father's  yearning  and  pleading  love 
which  cries  through  his  word.  It  is  impossible  for  the 
wanderer  to  go  beyond  the  reach  of  those  bonds  of  love 
with  which  the  Holy  and  the  Blessed  One  is  ever 
drawing  the  disinherited  child  of  earth  back  to  his  lost 
inheritance.  , 

The  cherubim  whose  fiery  sword  guarded  the  gate 
of  the  forfeited  Eden,  forbidding  all  return,  spread  out 
their  covering  wings  over  the  mercy-seat  in  the  taber- 
nacle of  Moses  and  in  the  temple  of  Zion.  They  were 
represented  as  bending  forward  with  reverent  and 
adoring  study  to  learn  what  might  be  signified  by  the 
divine  symbol  of  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  for  sin.  Thus 
God  taught  his  ancient  people  the  great  mystery  which 
angels  desired  to  look  into — the  mystery  of  pardon 
through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world — the  mystery  of  Paradise  regained 
by  the  cross  of  Christ.  When  the  weary  exile  of 


514  THE  GARDEN  OF  GOD. 

earth  returns  from  all  his  wanderings  and  stands  in 
penitence  at  the  guarded  gate,  pleading  only  the  cross 
of  Christ  for  admission,  "the  watching  cherub  hears 
and  drops  his  double-flaming  sword."  The  way  of 
entrance  is  open  and  free.  Angel  hosts  come  forth  to 
welcome  him  to  bliss.  Crowned  and  proclaimed  as  the 
ransomed  of  the  Lord,  he  finds  a  brighter  home  and  a 
better  life  than  Adam  lost  in  Eden. 


ur 


1  will  praise  thet ;   for  I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.  —  Ps. 
cxxxix.  14. 


XXVI. 

MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

HE  old  philosophers  used  to  say  that  on  earth 
there  is  nothing  great  but  man.  It  would  have 
been  truer  if  they  had  said  that  on  earth  are 
many  great  things,  but  man  is  the  greatest  of 
all.  All  of  God's  works  are  great  and  marvelous. 
The  more  we  study  them,  the  more  wonderful  they 
seem  in  completeness  and  in  adaptation  to  the  ends 
of  their  creation.  But  inasmuch  as  the  purpose  for 
which  man  was  created  is  the  greatest,  man  himself 
must  be  the  most  wonderful  of  all  God's  works  in  this 
world. 

The  student  may  spend  a  lifetime  in  studying  the 
nature  of  plants,  and  he  may  make  himself  familiar 
with  all  trees  and  flowers — from  the  mighty  pine  whose 
life  extends  through  thousands  of  years  to  the  pale 
primrose  that  dies  in  bringing  tidings  of  the  coming 
spring.  And  yet  in  the  first  leaf  that  he  sees  waving 
in  the  wind,  in  the  simplest  blade  of  grass  that  he 
treads  beneath  his  foot,  he  will  find  much  that  he  can- 
not understand.  He  will  be  compelled  to  acknowledge 
that  life  in  its  lowest  form  is  a  mystery  past  finding 

517 


518  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

out.  The  chemist  may  collect  and  analyze  the  min- 
erals and  earths  and  liquids  and  gases  until  he  has 
.examined  and  named  every  substance  and  defined  and 
tested  every  force  which  he  can  find  in  the  whole 
kingdom  of  Nature.  And  yet  he  cannot  tell  us  the 
form  or  size  or  color  or  weight  of  a  single  atom.  He 
cannot  tell  what  holds  atoms  together  to  make  solid 
bodies.  He  cannot  tell  whether  there  be  ultimate 
atoms  of  matter  or  not.  God's  work  is  equally  past 
finding  out  in  the  grain  of  sand,  in  the  precious  gem, 
in  the  drop  of  water,  in  the  electric  spark  and  in  the 
beam  of  light. 

You  would  show  me  the  simplest  form  of  mat- 
ter— one  in  which  there  can  be  no  complexity  and 
nothing  hard  to  comprehend.  In  doing  so  you  point 
to  the  smallest  particle  of  dust  that  the  passing  wind 
has  dropped  upon  your  hand.  We  examine  it  with 
the  microscope,  and  behold  it  proves  to  be  the  complete 
skeleton  of  a  creature  that  once  lived  and  possessed  all 
the  organs  and  faculties  requisite  to  the  full  enjoyment 
of  life.  You  turn  to  the  heavens  and  point  out  a  thin, 
floating  mist — so  thin  that  it  takes  the  best  eye  to  see  it 
at  all — and  there  you  say  that  matter  must  be  in  its 
simplest  and  most  elementary  state.  But  we  bring  the 
mighty  telescope  to  bear  upon  that  mist,  and  behold 
it  flashes  into  a  universe  of  suns,  any  one  of  which 
may  be  a  million  times  larger  than  the  earth  we  tread 
upon. 

The  astronomer  may  spend  the  nights  of  years  in 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  519 

exploring  the  fields  of  space,  counting  the  number  and 
tracing  the  pathways  of  worlds ;  he  may  call  to  his  aid 
the  mightiest  instruments  and  the  most  exhausting  cal- 
culus ;  and  yet  the  more  he  sees  of  God's  glory  in  the 
heavens  the  more  will  he  be  inclined  to  exclaim,  How 
unfathomable  are  the  ways  of  the  Most  High !  How 
impossible  for  man  or  any  other  creature  by  searching 
to  find  the  end  or  the  beginning  of  the  works  of  God ! 
The  naturalist  may  study  the  forms  and  habits  of  birds 
and  fish  and  insects  and  animals  until  he  seems  to  be 
at  home  in  all  the  kingdoms  of  Nature,  and  the  lower 
orders  of  creation  become  his  friends  and  companions. 
And  yet  he  cannot  tell  what  guides  the  bird  in  its  long 
migration,  what  teaches  the  bee  to  build  its  waxen  cell 
or  the  spider  to  spin  its  geometric  web.  At  every  step 
in  his  studies  he  is  charmed  with  increasing  knowledge, 
but  he  is  still  more  fascinated  with  unfathomable 
mystery. 

These  wonders  and  mysteries  attend  us  everywhere 
while  studying  the  works  of  God  in  the  creation 
around  us.  But  we  find  the  most  fearful  and  won- 
derful work  of  all  in  ourselves.  The  body  in  which 
the  soul  dwells  is  the  climax  of  all  the  beauty,  com- 
pleteness and  adaptation  which  are  aimed  at  and  ap- 
proached by  slow  degrees  through  the  lower  grades  of 
the  animal  creation.  God  has  not  given  us  the 
strength  of  the  lion,  the  horse  or  the  elephant,  but 
he  has  endowed  us  with  intelligence  so  to  apply  our 
strength  that  we  can  easily  use  for  ourselves  and  sur- 


520  MAN   WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

pass  the  power  of  all  other  creatures  in  the  world. 
God  has  not  given  us  the  swiftness  of  the  eagle,  nor 
has  he  clothed  us  with  the  delicate  and  dazzling 
plumage  of  the  bird  of  Paradise,  but  he  has  given  us 
the  command  of  forces  that  can  transport  us  where  the 
birds  of  the  air  never  fly ;  he  has  given  to  the  human 
form  a  grace  of  movement,  and  to  the  human  face  a 
beauty  of  expression  and  a  dignity  of  command,  far 
more  impressive  than  brilliant  robes  or  flashing  gems. 
The  beautiful  things  of  earth  display  their  greatest 
power  when  associated  with  a  living  soul.  God  has 
not  clothed  us  with  the  defensive  covering,  or  endowed 
us  with  the  tenacity  of  life,  which  belong  to  some  of 
the  brute  creation ;  but  he  has  enabled  us  to  defend 
ourselves  against  all  dangers  and  to  live  and  enjoy  life 
in  all  the  seasons  and  climates  of  the  earth. 

And  when  we  consider  that  mind,  immortal  mind, 
dwells  in  this  fearful  and  wonderful  frame,  when  we 
consider  that  a  spiritual  and  deathless  soul  lives  in  this 
frail  habitation  of  the  dust,  then  we  are  filled  with  awe 
at  the  thought  of  ourselves.  We  exclaim  with  more 
wonder  and  more  meaning  than  the  great  dramatist 
put  into  the  words  of  his  most  thoughtful  character : 
"  What  a  piece  of  work  is  man !  How  noble  in  reason  ! 
How  infinite  in  faculties !  In  form  and  moving  how 
express  and  admirable !  In  action  how  like  an  angel ! 
In  apprehension  how  like  a  god  I" 

There  are  many  things  wonderful  in  the  organic 
structure  of  our  bodies,  in  the  combined  resources  of 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  521 

our  physical  and  intellectual  power,  and  in  the  momen- 
tary maintenance  of  our  life.  The  organ,  which  in 
itself  is  wonderful,  becomes  infinitely  more  so  when  it 
is  made  the  instrument  of  the  soul.  If  I  use  my  hand 
or  arm  or  any  part  of  my  frame  for  any  considerable 
time,  it  becomes  weary,  and  it  must  be  revived  by  rest. 
If  I  try  only  to  hold  my  arm  in  the  same  position  the 
muscles  soon  relax,  and  it  drops  as  if  lifeless  to  my 
side.  And  yet  in  the  very  centre  of  this  house  of  the 
soul  is  the  heart  itself,  only  a  delicate  and  sensitive 
muscle,  toiling  in  just  the  same  way,  beating  just  the 
same  stroke  against  the  walls  of  its  prison,  wrenched 
with  the  same  spasm  four  thousand  times  an  hour, 
night  and  day,  from  one  end  of  the  year  to  the  other, 
without  a  moment's  cessation.  Whether  we  sleep  or 
wake,  sit  or  stand,  walk  or  run,  toil  or  rest,  the  tire- 
less heart  toils  on,  keeping  the  current  of  life  in  motion 
without  any  thought,  attention  or  will  of  ours.  And 
if  for  one  minute  it  should  become,  like  the  hand  or 
arm,  weary  and  demand  rest,  it  would  never  beat  again, 
and  the  imprisoned  soul  would  flee  from  the  tabernacle 
of  the  body  never  to  return.  Watches  must  be  wound 
up  or  they  will  not  run.  Engines  must  be  supplied 
with  fuel  or  they  cease  to  work.  All  machines  must 
be  watched  and  their  moving  power  constantly  re- 
newed, or  they  become  useless.  We  give  no  attention 
to  thi  beating  of  our  hearts.  The  force  that  moves  that 
small  living  engine  is  as  independent  of  our  will  as  the 
force  that  moves  the  sun  in  the  heavens.  And  yet  in 


522  MAN   WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

each  of  our  bosoms  that  unwearied  worker  keeps  count- 
ing the  seconds,  one,  two,  three,  stroke  by  stroke,  and 
it  must  count  thirty  millions  of  strokes  for  every  per- 
son that  lives  from  the  beginning  to  the  close  of  a  year ; 
and  the  moment  it  stops  counting  we  are  in  eternity. 
This  tireless  timekeeper,  which  every  one  carries  in  his 
bosom,  is  all  that  preserves  our  connection  with  the 
months  and  years  of  time.  When  it  stops,  time  to  us 
shall  be  no  more. 

Is  it  not  a  very  wonderful  thing  that  so  frail  and 
sensitive  an  organ  as  the  heart  can  work  so  long  with- 
out resting  ?  Is  it  not  a  very  fearful  thing  that  we 
should  have  no  choice,  no  will  or  command  over  the 
heart,  and  yet  the  continued  counting  of  strokes  by 
that  unwearied  worker  in  our  bosoms  is  all  that  stands 
between  us  and  the  tremendous  destinies  of  death  and 
eternity  ?  Suppose  a  pendulum,  swinging  in  your  bed- 
chamber, kept  in  motion  by  no  visible  hand  or  ma- 
chinery, moving  sometimes  faster,  sometimes  slower,  yet 
always  going,  and  you  lie  down  upon  your  bed,  know- 
ing that  if  it  should  stop  for  a  moment,  while  you  sleep 
or  when  you  wake,  you  will  be  in  eternity, — would  you 
not  look  upon  that  pendulum  with  fearfulness  and  awe  ? 
You  go  forth  to  your  daily  task  leaving  it  swinging 
there,  and  it  must  keep  swinging  or  you  will  never 
come  back  alive.  Would  you  not  think  many  times  in 
the  day  of  the  mysterious  power  that  holds  your  life 
without  asking  your  leave? 

I  lift  my  hand,  direct  my  eye.  use  my  voice,  govern  thn 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  523 

movement  of  my  whole  body  as  I  choose.  But  in  order 
that  I  may  do  so  another  Power,  independent  of  my  will, 
without  any  advice,  care,  or  command  of  mine,  must 
keep  my  heart  beating.  And  so  that  unseen  Power 
must  redeem  my  life  from  destruction  every  moment, 
at  every  pulse,  or  I  cease  to  live.  Is  it  not  a  fearful 
thing  to  be  at  all  times  so  completely  in  the  hands  of 
the  living  God  ?  Is  it  not  a  very  fearful  thing  for  us 
to  use  any  of  the  powers  of  life  in  displeasing  God, 
when  it  is  only  his  constant  care  over  us  that  keeps  us 
from  destruction  ? 

The  tongue  is  another  organ  of  the  human  frame 
very  wonderful  both  in  its  structure  and  its  use.  It  is 
the  organ  of  speech,  and  the  word  is  often  used  for 
speech  itself,  as  well  as  for  the  whole  muscular  appa- 
ratus that  comes  into  play  in  producing  articulate 
sounds.  So  understood,  it  is  in  many  respects  the  most 
wonderful  organ  in  the  human  frame,  not  excepting  even 
the  eye.  It  is  the  most  complex  in  structure,  the  most 
delicate  in  sensibility,  the  most  marvelous  in  power,  the 
most  various  in  adaptation,  the  most  complete  embodi- 
ment and  revelation  of  the  indwelling  mind. 

It  i?  by  change  of  position  in  the  organs  of  speech 
that  the  variations  of  vocal  sounds  are  produced.  And 
the  combinations  of  motion  and  position  of  which  the 
tongue  is  capable  are  as  countless  as  the  varieties  of 
tones  and  voices  among  men.  There  are  more  than  a 
thousand  millions  of  human  voices  in  the  world,  and 
no  two  are  so  much  alike  as  to  be  taken  the  one  for  the 


524  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

other.  If  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  save  one 
were  ranged  in  a  line  and  made  to  pass  by  that  one,  he 
could  make  twenty  thousand  different  combinations  of 
position  and  tone  in  his  organs  of  speech  for  every 
one  of  the  thousand  millions,  and  never  repeat  a  posi- 
tion or  tone  till  all  the  line  had  passed  him.  That  is 
to  say,  the  organs  of  speech  can  make  twenty  thousand 
times  a  thousand  millions  of  variations  in  tone  aud 
expression. 

Two  flutes,  two  violins,  two  trumpets  can  easily  be 
made  to  sound  precisely  alike.  Birds  of  the  same 
species  have  so  nearly  the  same  note  that  we  seldom 
observe  any  difference  between  one  and  another.  And 
yet  if  all  the  human  beings  that  have  ever  lived  from 
the  creation  to  the  present  hour  were  gathered  in  one 
assembly,  every  individual  would  be  distinguishable 
from  the  rest  by  his  voice.  And  the  power  of  this 
faculty  of  speech  is  even  more  various  and  wonderful 
than  the  living  organism  by  which  it  is  brought  into 
play.  The  inspired  Psalmist  calls  it  his  glory,  and  the 
Apostle  James  says  the  tongue  is  a  world  in  itself.  It 
can  assume  all  characters,  express  all  passions  and  con- 
trol all  hearts.  It  can  allure  with  the  sweet  accents  of 
love,  and  it  can  terrify  with  the  thunders  of  wrath. 
It  can  soothe  the  timid  babe  to  sleep,  and  it  can  strike 
the  brave  and  boastful  man  with  awe.  It  can  rouse 
millions  to  meet  all  that  is  most  terrible  in  war  and  in 
death,  and  it  can  speak  peace  to  the  turbulent  passions 
of  the  multitude,  and  they  shall  be  still. 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  525 

It  has  been  said  of  Martin  Luther  that  his  words 
were  half  battles.  And  words  from  other  lips  than 
Luther's  have  won  greater  victories  than  war.  They 
have  made  monarchs  tremble  in  their  capitals  and 
conquerors  turn  pale  at  the  head  of  armies.  They 
have  cast  down  thrones  and  shaken  the  whole  fabric 
of  human  society  as  the  earthquake  shakes  the  hills 
and  the  mountain  torrent  sweeps  away  the  shepherd 
and  his  flock.  One  strong,  decisive  word  spoken  in  the 
crisis  of  great  events  is  a  new  force  thrown  out  upon 
the  world  as  the  dazzling  lightning  leaps  from  the  dark 
cloud.  In  the  last  French  Revolution  two  words, 
spoken  by  a  spectator  in  the  gallery  of  the  National 
Assembly,  banished  the  king  and  enthroned  a  new 
monarch  over  thirty-five  millions  of  people. 

A  right  word  strikes  a  chord  which  thrills  in  unison 
with  all  the  harps  of  heaven  and  all  the  hosts  of  God. 
Truth  sits  enthroned  upon  the  tongue  which  speaks 
right  words,  and  through  the  portals  of  the  lips  it 
sends  forth  messengers  of  light  and  blessing  through 
all  the  earth  and  through  all  time.  Truth  must  be 
made  incarnate  by  the  utterance  of  the  tongue  before 
it  can  go  forth  and  shake  the  nations.  It  must  be 
embodied  in  spoken  words,  and  then  it  can  walk  through 
the  earth  with  the  step  of  power,  and  fly  over  seas  and 
continents  with  the  wing  of  eagles,  and  speak  with 
authority  in  all  hearts  and  homes,  in  all  the  councils 
and  congregations  of  men. 

There  are  words  of  power  now  living  and  reigning 


526 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 


on  the  earth,  and  the  lips  that  first  gave  them  utterance 
and  sent  them  forth  upon  the  career  of  conquest  have 
been  for  a  thousand  years  silent  in  the  grave.  There 
are  words  of  light  scattering  the  dark  clouds  that  hover 
around  the  paths  of  men,  and  the  breath  that  kindled 
the  flame  went  out  in  far-distant  lands  and  in  times  of 
which  there  is  no  history.  There  are  words  of  kind- 
ness going  up  and  down  the  world  like  good  angels  on 
messages  of  mercy,  and  they  were  first  wrung  out  from 
the  sore  afflictions  and  sorrows  of  those  whose  hearts 
beat  in  love  and  broke  in  agony.  No  talent  is  more  to 
be  desired  than  the  power  to  send  forth  words  of  truth 
and  love  to  travel  where  you  cannot  go,  and  to  live  in 
the  world  when  you  are  gone,  as  the  strong  oak  and 
lofty  pine  live  for  ages  after  the  hand  that  planted 
them  has  mouldered  back  to  the  dust  of  the  earth. 

There  are  blessed  words  which  have  carried  peace  to 
millions  of  troubled  hearts — words  that  have  lifted  the 
weight  of  sin  and  sorrow  from  millions  of  crushed  and 
suffering  souls.  When  first  spoken  they  came  forth 
from  human  lips,  all  alive  and  tremulous  with  the 
strong  love  of  a  human  heart.  And  rather  than  lose 
those  blessed  words,  the  world  could  better  afford  to 
have  fire  burn  down  its  palaces  and  earthquakes  over- 
throw its  monuments  and  the  sea  swallow  up  its  navies. 
The  wide  earth  would  no  longer  have  a  congenial  home 
for  man  if  one  blessed  Voice  should  cease  to  cry  to  the 
weary  and  sorrowing,  "  Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give 
you  rest."  These  divine  words,  coming  to  us  by  the 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  527 

utterance  of  human  lips,  and  warm  with  the  throbbings 
of  a  human  heart,  sound  over  all  the  seas  of  human 
sorrow :  they  are  heard,  clear  and  loud,  amid  all  the 
conflicts  of  human  passion,  and  they  tell  us  of  a  peace 
that  passeth  all  understanding ;  they  give  us  the  only 
promise  that  the  weary  soul  shall  ever  find  rest. 

The  words  of  power  which  determine  great  destinies 
may  come  forth  from  very  humble  lips,  and  they  may 
be  spoken  on  very  common  occasions.  Man  is  so  won- 
derfully made  that  a  slight  thrill  upon  the  sensitive 
chords  of  the  human  heart  may  vibrate  through  eter- 
nity. A  little  girl  playing  in  a  retired  corner  of  a 
quiet  English  home  overheard  a  careless  and  cruel 
remark  dropped  from  the  lips  of  a  casual  visitor,  and 
those  words  cast  a  shadow  upon  the  path  of  that  child 
which  never  lighted  up,  and  the  melancholy  refrain  of 
that  early  sorrow  sounds  like  the  moan  of  the  sea  through 
every  line  of  one  of  England's  sweetest,  saddest  poets. 

A  returning  soldier  stops  at  a  retired  farmhouse  for 
a  night ;  he  whiles  away  the  evening  hours  by  telling 
the  story  of  the  great  battle  and  the  long  campaign. 
His  words  kindle  the  fire  of  martial  ambition  in  the 
heart  of  a  bright-eyed  boy  who  listens  in  the  corner. 
The  flame  burns  on  when  he  who  dropped  the  spark 
has  gone  on  his  way  and  is  seen  no  more.  By  and  by 
the  cloud  of  war  darkens  a  once  peaceful  land ;  the  boy 
has  become  a  man,  the  smouldering  fire  in  his  heart 
has  shot  up  into  dazzling  brilliancy :  he  is  at  the  head 
of  great  armies,  the  destiny  of  millions  is  made  to  hang 


528  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

upon  his  word,  the  condition  of  a  mighty  nation  and 
the  history  of  the  world  are  overruled  and  determined 
by  influences  going  forth  from  the  words  spoken  by 
the  weary  wayfarer  who  begged  lodgings  at  a  country 
farmhouse  for  a  night. 

A  returned  missionary  stands  before  a  strange  con- 
gregation and  tells  the  story  of  his  toil  in  preaching 
the  gospel  in  a  foreign  tongue  in  a  far-distant  land. 
With  deep  and  imploring  earnestness  he  calls  for 
others  to  enlist  in  the  sacred  cause  and  carry  the 
banner  of  the  cross  through  every  land.  An  un- 
known youth  listens  from  the  gallery,  and  the  words 
of  the  preacher  become  as  a  fire  in  his  throbbing  heart. 
He  goes  to  his  home,  resumes  the  round  of  daily  life 
just  as  he  lived  before.  But  those  burning  words  are 
still  in  his  heart.  They  are  remembered  in  his  hours 
of  toil  and  recreation ;  they  haunt  him  in  solitude ; 
they  come  to  him  like  messengers  from  another  world 
in  the  dreams  of  the  night.  And  when  years  have 
passed  on,  and  the  missionary  has  gone  back  to  his 
field  and  finished  his  work,  and  his  ashes  are  resting 
beneath  the  shadow  of  the  palm  or  beside  the  moaning 
sea,  there  is  another  voice,  loud  and  clear  and  strong, 
fired  with  the  ardor  of  young  manhood,  taking  up  and 
carrying  on  the  message  which  he  began ;  and  all  its 
utterance  and  power  have  come  from  those  few  words 
dropped  into  the  ear  of  an  unknown  youth  in  a  strange 
congregation,  when  the  speaker  knew  not  that  any  lis- 
tened or  regarded. 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  529 

Man  is  so  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  that  a 
tone,  a  look,  a  breath  may  determine  the  course  of 
conduct  for  a  lifetime  and  the  destiny  of  an  immortal 
soul  for  eternity.  It  takes  only  a  very  slight  influence 
to  make  a  lasting  impression  upon  so  sensitive  a  thing 
as  a  human  heart.  The  little  bird  that  walked  upon 
the  plastic  clay  of  the  river-bank  uncounted  ages  ago, 
left  a  track  which  may  be  seen  to-day  in  the  solid 
stone.  The  delicate  fern  leaf  which  fell  from  its  stalk 
before  Adam  walked  in  Eden  may  be  traced  to-day, 
with  all  its  network  of  veins  and  threads,  in  the 
cloven  slate  and  quarried  coal  of  our  mountains.  So 
the  tongue  may  scatter  words  as  freely  as  leaves  fall  in 
autumn,  or  birds  sport  on  the  river  bank,  but  all  the 
while  the  words  spoken  are  making  impressions  upon 
souls  that  shall  outlive  all  time — impressions  which 
will  remain  to  be  read  when  the  hills  have  melted  like 
wax  and  the  earth  is  burned  in  the  final  flame. 

The  good  words  of  truth  live  and  give  life  to  the 
world.  They  may  be  shut  up  in  prisons,  but  no 
fetters  can  bind  them.  They  may  be  cast  into  the 
fire,  but  the  truth  cannot  be  burned.  They  may  be 
thrown  overboard  into  the  depths  of  the  sea,  but  the 
truth  cannot  be  drowned.  They  may  be  persecuted 
and  driven  into  exile.  But  even  there  they  will 
acquire  new  life  and  make  the  desert  blossom  as  the 
rose.  It  would  be  easier  to  stop  the  current  of  the 
mighty  river,  or  to  hush  the  fury  of  the  wildest  storm, 
than  stop  the  course  or  quench  the  life  of  the  good 

2H 


030  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

words  which  any  earnest,  truth-speaking  man  has  sent 
forth  into  the  world.  If  you  would  throw  your  influ- 
ence into  the  stream  which  carries  blessing  wherever  it 
flows,  if  you  would  ally  yourself  with  the  divine  power 
which  is  renewing  and  redeeming  the  nations,  if  you 
would  unbar  the  prisons  of  despair  and  open  the  gates 
of  life  to  immortal  souls,  you  have  only  to  speak  good 
words. 

We  associate  strength  and  courage  and  vitality  with 
full-grown  manhood.  And  yet  it  is  fearful  to  think 
that  the  strongest  man  may  be  crushed  before  the 
moth,  the  mighty  may  become  as  tow  in  the  fire  and 
as  chaff  before  the  whirlwind.  God  may  lay  his  finger 
upon  the  secret  springs  of  life  so  gently  that  the  touch 
is  not  felt.  The  wisest  physician  cannot  find  the 
wound  which  needs  to  be  healed.  The  man  himself 
does  not  know  that  he  is  hurt.  And  yet  he  becomes 
like  the  frailest  flower  when  touched  by  the  frost. 
The  light  of  intellect  fades  from  his  flashing  eye.  His 
arm  no  longer  obeys  the  command  of  his  imperious 
will.  His  face  is  changed,  and  the  places  where  he 
was  seen  in  the  glory  of  his  strength  know  him  no 
more  for  ever.  The  poison  which  destroys  life  may 
be  inhaled  with  the  air  which  sustains  it.  The  medi- 
cine which  is  taken  to  heal  may  only  hasten  the  pro- 
gress of  disease.  One  moment  the  man  may  be  pouring 
forth  the  treasures  of  a  rich  and  cultivated  mind ;  at 
the  next,  reason,  memory,  thought,  intellect,  may  be 
all  gone.  The  body  itself  may  live  on  in  utter  and 


MAN   WONDERFULLY  MADE.  531 

pitiable  helplessness  long  after  the  mind  ceases  to  rule 
its  own  house. 

The  safeguards  of  the  citadel  of  life  are  as  wonderful 
as  its  exposures.  Life  is  as  great  a  mystery  as  death, 
and  many  times  it  is  a  greater  mystery  that  one  lives 
than  it  would  be  had  he  died.  The  soldier  goes 
through  all  the  perils  of  many  battles  and  long  cam- 
paigns, and  then  comes  home  to  lose  his  life  in  some 
occupation  that  everybody  thought  was  perfectly  safe. 
Bruce  passed  unhurt  through  all  the  perils  of  fever 
and  plague,  corsairs  on  the  Mediterranean  and  savages 
in  Abyssinia,  the  storms  of  the  sea  and  the  simooms 
of  the  desert,  and  then  came  home  to  lose  his  life  by  a 
slight  misstep  at  the  door  of  his  own  house.  Speke 
encountered  still  greater  dangers  and  hardships  in 
search  of  the  fountains  of  the  Nile :  he  was  for  months 
in  the  power  of  savage  chieftains  who  would  shoot  men 
for  amusement,  and  he  came  back  to  his  quiet  home  in 
England  to  lose  his  life  by  a  trifling  accident  while  en- 
joying himself  among  his  friends.  We  all  trust  our- 
selves to  a  thousand  uncertainties  and  live.  We  may 
take  especial  care  to  be  perfectly  safe  and  yet  die. 

I  take  my  seat  at  night  in  the  swiftest  train  without 
asking  a  question  about  its  safety,  and  I  rush  away 
through  the  darkness  five  times  as  fast  as  a  fleet  horse 
travels  on  a  level  road.  Every  bolt  and  timber  in  the 
car  trembles  with  the  violence  and  rapidity  of  the 
motion.  I  cannot  stop  the  train.  The  reins  of  the 
fire-winged  steed  by  which  I  am  drawn  are  not  in  my 


532  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

hands,  and  if  they  were  I  should  not  know  how  to  curb 
or  direct  its  mysterious  and  terrible  power.  To  leap 
to  the  ground  would  be  certain  destruction.  I  have 
put  my  life  in  the  hands  of  men  whose  faces  I  have 
never  seen,  and  the  track  over  which  I  am  flying  with 
such  fearful  speed  is  shrouded  in  darkness.  They  do 
not  know,  they  do  not  care,  who  I  am,  whence  I  came, 
or  how  many  others  are  interested  in  my  return.  I 
do  not  know,  when  I  am  shooting  over  some  awful 
abyss,  hanging  by  a  flange  of  a  finger's  length  to  the 
edge  of  the  precipice,  or  sweeping  through  narrow 
defiles  with  mountains  of  rock  so  near  that  I  could 
touch  them  with  my  hand  in  passing.  I  only  know 
that  I  am  thundering  on  through  the  darkness  as  if 
drawn  by  some  angry,  fire-breathing  monster,  whose 
open  mouth  devours  the  distance  before  me  by  miles 
and  by  leagues.  If  any  obstacle  should  mistakenly  or 
maliciously  lie  upon  the  track,  it  would  make  the  whole 
train  a  shattered  and  shapeless  wreck  in  an  instant. 
If  a  single  wheel  should  deviate  a  hand's  breadth  from 
its  appointed  path,  the  heavy  tidings  of  disaster  and 
death  will  be  carried  to  distant  homes,  and  many  fami- 
lies will  look  in  vain  for  the  return  of  the  loved  and 
lost. 

Just  here,  where  I  am  now  passing  in  safety  at  mid- 
night, a  man  made  a  slight  misstep  in  going  from  one 
car  to  another  yesterday  at  noon,  and  the  rushing 
wheels  severed  his  head  from  his  body  as  quickly  as 
if  he  had  laid  it  beneath  the  axe  of  the  guillotine. 


MAN   WONDERFULLY  MADE.  533 

Just  before  dark  I  saw  the  fragments  of  a  passenger 
car  which  had  been  thrown  from  the  track  with  all  its 
living  freight  and  dashed  to  pieces  the  previous  eve- 
ning. Yesterday  morning  I  crossed  a  yawning  gulf 
into  which  a  night  train  plunged  through  a  broken 
bridge  nine  days  ago,  causing  the  loss  of  many  lives 
and  untold  suffering  in  a  moment.  I  am  to  pass  before 
morning  along  a  high  embankment  down  which  a  car 
with  thirty  passengers  rolled  a  few  days  ago,  as  a 
loosened  rock  rolls  from  the  side  of  a  mountain.  And 
so,  all  along  the  line  of  travel  where  I  have  been  and 
where  I  am  to  go,  I  can  count  up  the  waymarks  of  dis- 
aster and  death.  And  yet  I  quietly  trust  my  life  to 
the  assumption  that  in  my  case  nothing  will  break, 
nothing  will  lie  upon  the  track,  no  conductor's  watch 
will  go  wrong,  no  engineer  or  signalman  will  neglect 
his  duty. 

This  seems  like  presumption,  and  yet  how  fearful, 
how  similar  are  the  conditions  of  peril  and  of  safety 
with  which  we  are  surrounded  in  all  the  common  walks 
of  life.  We  live  every  moment  in  helpless  subjection 
to  elements  of  the  most  awful  and  resistless  power. 
The  preservation  of  our  lives  is  momentarily  dependent 
upon  the  nicest  balancing  of  forces  which  are  ever  strug- 
gling against  each  other,  and  which  are  utterly  beyond 
our  control.  We  shudder  when  the  swift  car  hurls  us 
along  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  or  over  the  deep  gulf 
in  which  other  travelers  have  found  their  grave.  And 
yet  the  elements  of  the  air  we  breathe  are  adjusted  to 


534  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

each  other  with  such  critical  accuracy  that  a  very  slight 
change  in  the  proportions  would  either  kindle  the 
flame  of  life  to  such  intensity  as  to  burn  itself  out  in  a 
few  moments,  or  cover  us  with  an  irrespirable  ocean, 
under  which  we  should  be  as  certainly  drowned  as  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea.  The  vast  earth  hangs  upon  nothing 
in  empty  space,  sweeping  around  the  sun  a  thousand 
times  swifter  than  the  swiftest  railroad  train  ever  flies ; 
it  leans  upon  the  plane  of  its  orbit  as  a  racer  leans 
upon  his  path  while  he  runs ;  and  if  it  should  lean  a 
little  more  or  a  little  less,  or  if  it  should  break  over  its 
unfenced  track,  every  house  of  the  living  would  become 
the  habitation  of  the  dead.  The  current  of  life  is 
kept  in  its  channel  by  partitions  as  thin  as  the  paper 
on  which  I  write.  A  sudden  motion,  a  single  misstep, 
a  trifling  mistake,  may  transfer  an  immortal  being  from 
time  to  eternity.  The  spirit  is  bound  to  the  flesh  by 
such  feeble  chains,  the  organs  and  functions  of  life  in 
our  bodies  are  dependent  upon  so  many  contingencies, 
that  we  should  scarcely  dare  move,  speak,  or  breathe 
if  we  saw  the  inner  workmanship  and  movements  of 
the  living  machine,  lest  we  should  destroy  the  struc- 
ture or  derange  its  operation.  God's  shielding  hand 
has  mercifully  hidden  from  our  eyes  the  mysterious 
energies  that  are  ever  acting  within  us  and  all  around 
us,  as  if  it  were  true  of  his  marvelous  works  as  it  is  of 
him,  that  no  man  can  look  on  them  and  live.  And 
he  would  thus  teach  us  to  trust  in  the  wisdom  of  the 
providence  which  we  cannot  comprehend,  and  to  hold 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE.  535 

ourselves  in  readiness  for  the  events  of  the  future 
which  we  cannot  foresee.  It  matters  little  to  us  that 
the  pathway  of  life  must  lie  upon  the  very  brink  of  the 
abyss  of  death,  if  we  trust  for  guidance  and  support  to 
the  Hand  that  is  almighty.  We  need  not  ask  how 
closely  we  are  walking  upon  the  boundaries  of  the  un- 
seen world,  if  we  look  for  protection  to  Him  whose 
kingdom  is  the  universe  and  whose  habitation  is 
eternity. 

And  indeed  one  of  the  most  fearful  and  wonderful 
things  in  the  constitution  of  our  being  is  the  perpetual 
consciousness  of  God's  presence  with  us  everywhere. 
The  supreme  and  eternal  King  claims  a  throne  in 
every  heart,  and  whatever  adverse  power  may  usurp 
that  seat,  we  are  compelled  to  feel  that  the  rightful 
Lord  is  ever  present  to  claim  his  own.  Wherever  we 
go  we  must  carry  with  us  the  inward  sense  of  that 
awful  Presence,  However  many  and  clamorous  the 
voices  that  surround  us  we  can  always  hear  the  gentle 
whisper  within,  Lo,  God  is  here!  The  Almighty 
Father  maintains  this  irresistible  witness  for  himself  in 
all  places,  at  all  periods  of  life,  in  all  human  souls.  In 
their  theories  and  speculations  men  may  deny  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  just  as  they  have  denied  the  existence 
of  the  material  world,  but  they  contradict  their  own 
skepticism  every  day  they  live.  With  all  of  God's 
gifts  to  man,  he  has  not  given  him  the  power  to  be  an 
atheist. 

The  most  common  things  in  our  daily  experience  are 


536  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

sometimes  most  fearful  and  wonderful.  Our  life  is  a 
sleeping  and  a  waking — the  one  state  as  common  as  the 
other.  And  yet  there  is  nothing  more  awful  or  mys- 
terious than  sleep.  It  has  been  called  the  image  and 
twin-brother  of  death.  And  much  of  the  aw  fulness 
and  mystery  of  death  which  we  all  shun  belongs  to  the 
semblance  of  death  which  we  all  seek.  Passing  from 
the  one  to  the  other  is  like  a  burial  and  a  resurrection 
— the  giving  up  of  the  ghost  and  the  creation  of  a  new 
life.  The  weary  conqueror  sleeps  upon  the  blood- 
stained field.  His  heart  still  beats,  his  breath  comes 
and  goes  like  the  swell  of  the  sea  when  the  storm  is 
past ;  the  flush  of  life  may  be  seen  upon  his  bronzed 
face  as  the  sky  still  glows  when  the  sun  is  set.  But  in 
all  other  respects  he  is  like  the  thousands  around  him 
to  whom  the  morning  will  bring  no  waking.  The 
earth  shakes  with  the  march  of  the  retreating  foe,  but 
he  hears  it  not.  The  signal-fires  blaze  on  the  hill-tops, 
but  he  sees  them  not.  The  night- wind  sweeps  over  him 
burdened  with  the  groans  of  the  wounded,  but  he  is 
indifferent  alike  to  the  dying  and  the  dead.  He  seems 
as  fit  for  a  soldier's  bloody  grave  as  any  of  the  torn  and 
blackened  forms  with  which  the  tempest  of  war  has 
strewn  the  trampled  plain.  And  yet  that  unconscious 
and  powerless  sleeper  shall  wake  from  his  seeming 
death,  as  the  dead  shall  rise  when  the  last  trumpet 
sounds.  Again  the  fire  of  passion  shall  flash  from  his 
kindled  eye  as  the  fateful  lightning  leaps  from  the 
silent  cloud.  His  word  of  command  shall  transform  a 


MAN   WONDERFULLY  MADE.  537 

sleeping  host  into  a  living  whirlwind  of  wrath.  His 
presence  shall  wake  the  war-cry  from  a  hundred  thou- 
sand voices.  That  one  man,  who  an  hour  ago  was  as 
helpless  and  unconscious  as  the  dead,  shall  become  the 
incarnation  of  power  and  victory,  from  whom  kings 
and  emperors  must  obtain  leave  to  wear  their  crowns. 
If  that  change  from  sleep  to  waking  were  not  the  most 
common  thing  in  human  experience,  we  should  count  it 
as  mysterious  and  awful  a  display  of  divine  power  as 
the  rising  from  the  dead. 

The  whole  connection  of  the  spiritual  and  immortal 
mind  with  the  material  and  perishable  body  is  fearful 
and  wonderful  beyond  expression.  Who  can  tell 
how  that  which  thinks  and  wills  and  feels  under  obli- 
gation can  be  imprisoned  in  a  material  form  ?  How 
can  mind  be  so  bound  up  with  flesh  as  to  lift  the  arm 
with  its  strength,  kindle  the  eye  with  its  lightning, 
charge  the  voice  with  its  thunder  ?  How  can  the  mind 
take  to  Itself  the  excitement  and  pleasure  which  the 
body  feels,  and  then  the  weariness  and  pain  which  the 
body  suffers  ?  Who  knows  in  what  apartment  of  the 
perishable  house  the  immortal  spirit  dwells?  How 
much  space  does  it  occupy  ?  Is  there  any  organ  which, 
when  removed,  takes  a  part  of  the  thinking  mind  and 
leaves  the  living  body  behind?  Does  the  conscious, 
reasoning  soul  pervade  the  whole  frame  and  yet  lose 
none  T>f  itself  when  the  body  is  maimed  ?  Is  it  some- 
thing that  cannot  be  weighed  or  measured,  divided  or 
expanded,  and  yet  is  it  imprisoned  within  walls  throng^ 


MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

which  it  cannot  pass?  The  utter  impossibility  of 
answering  one  of  a  thousand  such  questions,  and  the 
inexplicable  mystery  which  we  find  in  the  most 
familiar  operations  of  our  own  minds,  justify  the  excla- 
mation, "  I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made."  And 
this  unsearchable  mystery  of  our  own  being  brings  us 
face  to  face  with  the  spiritual  and  eternal  world.  It 
makes  us  feel  that  even  now  we  are  walking  under  the 
awful  shadow  of  eternity ;  we  have  something  to 
believe,  to  do  and  to  live  for,  which  should  bind  us  in 
willing  bonds  to  that  Infinite  One  from  whom  all 
knowledge  comes  and  in  whom  all  mysteries  are 
explained. 

How  fearful,  how  wonderful  is  that  experience  of  the 
soul  which  we  call  remorse?  In  some  moment  of 
thoughtlessness,  of  passion  or  of  temptation  a  man 
does  wrong.  He  thus  creates  the  sense  of  guilt  in  his 
own  soul.  He  kindles  a  burning  fire  in  the  very 
centre  and  sanctuary  of  his  own  being.  He  cannot 
put  out  the  flame.  He  cannot  escape  from  it.  He 
becomes  his  own  judge.  He  pronounces  sentence  of 
condemnation  upon  himself.  He  is  his  own  tormentor. 
He  inflicts  the  stripes  which  torture  him.  He  feels 
impelled  by  every  sentiment  of  honor  and  of  truth  to 
be  dissatisfied  with  himself.  He  suffers  that  kind  of 
torture  which  is  fearfully  described  as  the  never-dying 
worm  and  the  unquenchable  fire.  There  is  no  need  of 
scourges  or  prisons  to  make  the  guilty  man  miserable. 
The  fearful  and  wonderful  constitution  of  his  own 


MAN    WONDERFULLY  MADE.  539 

nature  is  such  that  an  accusing  conscience  can  dry  up 
every  fountain  of  joy  in  the  soul  and  make  every  bless- 
ing a  curse.  This  awful  susceptibility  to  remorse  is  a 
part  of  our  unchangeable  and  immortal  nature.  Its 
imperious  and  inexorable  demands  must  be  satisfied  in 
some  way,  or  we  can  never  be  at  peace.  There  is  no 
province  in  God's  universal  kingdom  where  a  man 
with  a  guilty  conscience  can  be  happy. 

And  yet  to  balance  this  fearful  exposure  to  self-in- 
flicted misery  is  the  equally  wonderful  susceptibility 
of  the  soul  to  be  satisfied  with  doing  right — to  be  happy 
in  any  condition  with  a  good  conscience.  The  deepest, 
purest,  sweetest  happiness,  the  peace  which  passeth  all 
understanding,  the  joy  that  is  unspeakable,  comes  from 
no  outward  state,  it  depends  on  no  earthly  condition. 
It  springs  from  the  simple,  bare  consciousness  of  recti- 
tude in  the  soul.  God  has  made  every  man  the  guar- 
dian of  his  own  happiness  by  making  him  the  keeper 
of  his  own  conscience.  Only  be  at  peace  with  that 
clear,  calm  voice  which  whispers  duty  in  the  soul,  and 
there  is  no  power  on  earth  that  can  make  you  mis- 
erable. Some  of  the  happiest  men  that  have  ever  lived 
have  suffered  every  indignity  and  torture  that  could 
be  heaped  upon  them,  and  yet  they  drew  a  pure, 
heavenly,  divine  peace  and  joy  from  the  simple  con- 
sciousness that  they  were  doing  their  duty.  This 
divine  constitution  of  our  nature  puts  it  in  the  power 
of  every  man  to  make  heaven  on  earth  in  his  own 
heart. 


540  MAN  WONDERFULLY  MADE. 

And  then,  what  is  most  wonderful  of  all,  when  by 
sinning  we  have  thrown  the  precious  jewel  of  our  own 
happiness  into  the  bottomless  pit  of  darkness  and 
misery,  the  Divine  Hand  finds  it  and  brings  it  back  to 
us.  By  the  great  sacrifice  of  the  cross  we  are  delivered 
from  the  reproaches  of  a  guilty  conscience.  God  him- 
self plucks  out  the  deep  and  dreadful  sting  from  the 
penitent  soul.  He  fills  the  believing  heart  with  a  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding.  He  opens  before  us 
the  glory  and  the  blessedness  of  an  everlasting  life. 
He  adopts  us  as  his  own  children,  makes  us  heirs  of 
his  immeasurable  riches,  and  gives  us  the  ages  of 
eternity  in  which  to  possess  and  enjoy  our  inheritance. 
This  new,  immortal  hope,  this  full  and  everlasting 
admission  into  the  glorious  light  and  liberty  of  the 
children  of  God,  may  well  lead  every  soul  to  exclaim, 
"  I  will  praise  thee,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  made." 


n 


That  Goa  may  be  all  in  all. — I  COR.  xv.  28. 


XXVII. 

GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

S  when  the  traveler  climbs  the  ridge  of  some 
lofty  hill  he  turns  to  trace  the  winding  path 
that  led  him  up  the  steep  before  he  passes  on  to 
other  scenes,  so  would  we  now  cast  a  backward 
look  upon  the  varied  course  along  which  we  have  been 
reading  God's  Unwritten  Word.  Coming  back  from 
the  most  discursive  range  through  many  fields,  we 
would  see  what  treasures  we  have  brought  home, 
and  whether  among  them  all  there  be  one  of  infinite 
price. 

In  passing  from  one  theme  to  another,  I  have  en- 
deavored to  obey  the  command  of  Christ,  to  consider 
the  wonders  of  divine  wisdom  and  power  with  which 
the  world  is  filled.  I  have  endeavored  to  walk  among 
the  beauties  and  glories  of  the  wide  creation  with  a  free 
and  fearless  step,  and  yet  with  as  reverent  and  teach- 
able a  mind  as  that  with  which  Adam  walked  in  the 
garden  of  God.  Craving  your  company,  kind  reader, 
and  trying  to  blend  your  thoughts  with  mine,  I  have 
asked  you  to  go  out  with  me  under  the  starry  dome 
of  the  open  heavens  and  learn  the  speech  which  day 

543 


544  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

utters  to  day  and  the  knowledge  which  night  showeth 
unto  night.  We  have  traced  the  measuring  line  of  the 
divine  power,  which  goes  out  through  all  the  earth, 
and  we  have  caught  the  sound  of  the  divine  words 
which  are  heard  to  the  ends  of  the  world.  We  have 
followed  the  march  of  the  host  of  heaven  on  the  fields 
of  light,  and  we  have  listened  to  the  song  of  the  -sons 
of  the  morning  as  they  still  sing  over  God's  un- 
ceasing work  in  the  divine  harmony  of  the  boundless 
creation. 

We  have  been  down  to  the  shore  of  the  sounding 
sea  and  gazed  with  awe  upon  God's  wonders  in  the 
mighty  deep.  We  have  heard  the  awful  hymn  of 
praise  lifted  up  by  that  mysterious  main  whose  goings 
forth  are  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth  and  whose  secret 
chambers  no  eye  hath  seen.  We  have  walked  beneath 
the  shade  of  ancient  mountains,  and  shuddered  to  think 
of  the  mighty  power  that  piled  the  rocky  mass  above 
the  clouds  and  sunk  "their  sunless  pillars  deep  in 
earth."  We  have  bowed  down  and  worshiped  on  the 
sacred  heights  which  Moses  climbed.  We  have  gazed 
with  rapture  on  the  transfigured  face  of  Jesus  in  the 
holy  mount.  We  have  looked  with  ceaseless  delight 
upon  the  green  landscape  where  God  sends  out  the 
grazing  flocks  to  find  fresh  pasturage  upon  a  thousand 
hills.  We  have  lifted  up  our  feeble  voice  while  the 
high  places  of  the  earth  broke  forth  into  singing  and 
filled  the  hills  with  praise.  We  have  looked  on,  with 
wonder  and  delight,  while  the  fleecy  vapors  of  the 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  545 

morning  wandered  in  white  flocks  along  the  moun- 
tain's side^  and  God  spread  forth  the  balancings  of  the 
clouds  in  the  upper  heavens,  heralding  the  dawn  with 
bright  couriers  in  crimson  and  gold,  veiling  the  noon 
with  the  legions  of  darkness,  curtaining  the  couch  of 
the  setting  sun  with  drapery  dyed  in  heaven. 

We  have  traced  the  long  line  of  the  centuries 
through  which  day  and  night  have  come  marching 
down  to  us  with  measured  step  and  unvaried  succes- 
sion, keeping  the  covenant  which  God  has  made  with 
time  without  a  moment's  deviation  from  age  to  age. 
"We  have  found  no  words  to  express  our  wonder  while 
thinking  of  the  unwearied  hand  of  the  Almighty  turn- 
ing the  great  earth-wheel  beneath  our  feet  without 
haste,  without  rest,  from  century  to  century,  thus 
teaching  the  nations  that  dwell  on  the  face  of  all  the 
earth  to  trust  in  his  word  for  evermore.  We  have 
gone  out  in  the  glory  and  the  gladness  of  the  beautiful 
spring,  and  learned  the  great  lesson  of  our  own  resur- 
rection from  the  new  life  which  the  returning  sun  calls 
forth  from  the  icy  grave  of  winter.  We  have  learned 
to  think  that  it  cannot  be  a  hard  thing  for  the  dead  to 
be  raised  up  by  the  power  of  Him  who  brings  forth 
living  harvests  and  food  for  millions  from  kernels  of 
wheat  that  had  been  buried  three  thousand  years  with 
the  dead. 

We  have  seen  the  glory  with  which  God  clothes  the 
flowers  of  spring  and  the  grass  of  the  field,  and  we 

have  learned  to  believe  that  he  who  bestows  such  ex- 
21 


646  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL 

cellent  beauty  upon  the  frailest  things  of  earth  will  not 
forget  the  being  whom  he  made  in  his  own  image  and 
into  whose  soul  he  breathed  the  breath  of  an  immortal 
life.  We  have  bowed  down  to  worship  in  the  solemn 
shade  of  the  ancient  forest,  and  we  have  listened  rever- 
ently to  the  Voice  which  Adam  heard  in  the  cool  of 
the  day  walking  among  the  trees  of  his  garden-home. 
We  have  made  a  sanctuary  of  the  open  heavens,  and 
sought  in  the  heights  and  depths  of  the  viewless  air  for 
the  presence  of  Him  whose  way  is  in  the  whirlwind 
and  in  the  storm,  and  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of 
the  wind. 

We  have  seen  the  pitying  angel  of  the  sea  coming 
upon  cloudy  wings  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  the 
parched  earth,  and  pouring  down  the  blessed  rain 
upon  the  thirsty  field  and  the  mown  grass,  and  we 
have  prayed  for  the  speedy  coming  of  the  day  when 
righteousness  and  peace  shall  descend  from  heaven 
like  showers  that  water  the  earth.  We  have  walked 
forth  in  the  glow  of  the  morning,  when  the  dewdrops 
sparkled  like  gems  on  the  springing  grass,  and  we  have 
read  in  the  renewed  life  of  the  watered  fields  and  the 
incense-breathing  flowers  a  fresh  interpretation  of  the 
divine  promise :  "  I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel." 
We  have  seen  the  tempest  gather,  with  cloud  on  cloud 
in  billowy  darkness  rolled,  and  we  have  listened  with 
deep  awe  when  God  sent  forth  lightnings,  and  they 
answered  with  thundering  voices,  "  Here  we  are." 
And  then  we  rejoiced  to  see  that  when  the  warring 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  547 

elements  had  swept  the  plains  of  heaven  with  their 
wild  artillery,  and  the  trumpetings  of  the  storm  were 
dying  away  in  the  distance,  God  hung  out  the  bow  of 
peace  upon  the  retiring  cloud,  and  bade  us  look  upon 
the  token  of  his  covenant  with  all  flesh. 

We  have  walked  through  the  many -chambered 
house  of  the  earth  which  God  has  given  to  man  for 
his  present  habitation,  and  we  have  talked  of  our 
Father's  goodness  and  forethought  as  we  surveyed  the 
riches  of  beauty  and  blessing  with  which  every  apart- 
ment is  stored.  The  ancient  rocks  lift  up  their  hoary 
summits  to  the  skies  to  tell  us  that  God  ha,s  prepared 
a  safe  and  secret  place  beneath  the  shadow  of  his 
throne  for  all  who  seek  his  aid.  The  palm  waves  its 
feathery  branches  by  the  fountains  of  water,  and  the 
cedar  grows  from  century  to  century  on  the  height  of 
the  storm-swept  mountain,  to  teach  us  that  the  children 
of  God  find  springs  in  the  desert  and  the  righteous 
shall  flourish  in  immortal  youth.  The  birds  live  with- 
out anxiety,  and  they  carry  their  morning  hymn  to 
the  gates  of  heaven,  that  we  may  welcome  the  low- 
liest lot  with  a  grateful  heart  and  learn  to  sing  of 
mercies  all  the  way  onward  in  the  journey  of  life. 
The  happy  birds  are  set  to  preach  to  us  the  divine 
sermon  with  which  Christ  repelled  the  first  assault  of 
the  tempter's  power,  Man  lives  by  every  word  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Lord. 

The  mighty  river  rolls  through  a  thousand  leagues 
on  its  way  to  the  sea,  supporting  millions  as  it  goes; 


548  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

the  sun  pours  the  infinite  flood  of  light  from  his  far- 
distant  throne,  everywhere  producing  growth  and  glad- 
ness with  the  silent  touch  of  his  quickening  beams ;  the 
earth,  the  waters  and  the  air  teem  with  myriad  forms 
of  life  exceeding  small,  yet  of  great  power  to  teach  us 
that  God's  bounty  is  large  enough  for  all  his  creatures. 
The  grade  of  being  goes  down  so  low  as  to  embrace 
countless  millions  of  creatures  so  small  as  to  be  utterly 
inconceivable  to  our  minds ;  the  systems  of  worlds  ex- 
tend so  far  over  the  immensities  of  space  as  to  sweep 
beyond  the  utmost  reach  of  our  mightiest  instruments 
and  deepest  calculations,  and  all  to  show  us  that,  so  far 
as  we  can  know,  there  is  neither  end  nor  beginning  to 
God's  wondrous  works.  And  from  all  our  most  diverse 
and  distant  excursions  we  have  come  back  to  look  with 
silent  and  sacred  curiosity  upon  ourselves,  whom  God 
made  with  form  erect  and  face  divine  to  preside  over 
all  his  works  in  this  world.  We  have  tried  in  vain  to 
solve  the  fearful  and  wonderful  mystery  of  life.  We 
have  sounded  the  deeper  and  more  awful  mysteries 
of  our  spiritual  and  immortal  being,  and  we  have 
passed  over  depths  and  abysses  where  no  measuring 
line  of  thought  or  reason  can  find  a  shoal  or  a 
shore. 

And  from  all  these  varied  excursions  through  the 
mysteries  and  glories  of  the  boundless  creation  we 
come  back  with  this  one  discovery — GOD  ALL  IN  ALL, 
In  whatever  direction  we  push  our  inquiries  we  find  it 
written  in  letters  of  light  over  our  heads  and  under  our 


QOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  549 

feet — God  all  in  all.  If  we  ask  the  question,  What  is 
the  one  prime,  essential  truth  which  underlies  all 
knowledge,  directs  all  discovery,  enforces  all  duty  and 
supplies  all  wants,  the  answer  is  ever  the  same — God 
all  in  all.  If  we  ask  the  clouds,  they  roll  it  back  in 
thunder.  If  we  ask  the  winds,  they  breathe  it  forth 
in  gentle  whispers.  If  we  ask  the  sea,  it  says  the  same 
with  all  its  waves.  If  we  ask  the  stars,  they  sing  it  on 
their  way  as  they  range  the  pathless  fields  of  space — 
God  all  in  all.  If  we  turn  our  thoughts  inward  upon 
ourselves,  and  search  the  depths  of  our  being  for  some 
great  revelation  to  clear  up  the  mystery  of  the  present 
and  to  pour  light  upon  the  path  of  the  future,  the 
same  answer  comes  back  in  gentle  whispers  and  solemn 
pleadings  from  reason  and  memory  and  conscience  and 
hope — from  the  awful  conviction  of  sin,  the  secret 
dread  of  coming  judgment  and  the  irrepressible  long- 
ing for  immortality :  all  say  that  the  beginning  of 
wisdom  and  the  entrance  to  all  light  and  peace  in  the 
human  soul  lies  in  this  one  confession-1— God  all  in  all. 
The  word  of  divine  inspiration  glancing  down  the  far 
future  with  omniscient  vision,  and  foreseeing  the  time 
when  all  conflicts  shall  cease  and  all  doubts  shall  be 
swept  away,  and  all  rightful  rule  and  power  and 
authority  shall  be  established  everywhere  and  for  ever- 
more, declares  the  grand,  the  glorious  discovery  of  that 
day  to  consist  in  this — God  all  in  all. 

You  see,  then,  that  our  study  of  the  objects  and 
operations  of  Nature  has  not  led  us  to  the  adoption  of 


550  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

a  cold  and  mechanical  philosophy.  We  have  not  been 
BO  lost  in  admiration  of  the  things  made  as  to  forget 
their  Maker.  In  all  our  search  we  have  not  found 
any  one  great  force,  or  law,  or  power  of  development 
to  put  in  the  place  of  God.  We  have  not  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  is  unphilosophical  to  subject  all 
events  in  the  material  world  of  Nature  to  the  immediate 
and  constant  direction  of  one  infinite  and  eternal 
Mind.  We  have  not  learned  to  be  satisfied  with  the 
supposed  existence  of  some  unknown  and  impersonal 
force  before  all  the  ages  and  behind  all  the  worlds, 
which  could  never  be  made  the  subject  of  love  or 
trust,  prayer  or  worship. 

The  more  accurately  and  widely  we  survey  the  whole 
domain  of  human  knowledge — immensely  extended 
as  it  has  been  in  modern  times — the  more  are  we  led  to 
recognize  the  immediate  presence  and  power  of  God  in 
every  atom  and  every  world  of  his  boundless  creation. 
The  most  accurate  and  advanced  science  of  the  present 
age,  and  the  inspired  song  of  psalmists  and  prophets 
of  old,  agree  in  making  all  the  works  of  God  declare 
his  glory  in  harmonious  and  lofty  hymns  of  praise. 
All  that  we  have  learned  from  books,  all  that  we  have 
seen  in  the  surrounding  world,  all  that  we  have  proved 
by  scientific  investigation,  all  that  we  have  felt  in  the 
deepest  experience  of  faith  and  prayer  and  hope,  helps 
us  to  appreciate  the  vivid  representations  of  the 
psalmist  David  and  the  prophet  Isaiah,  of  the  patri- 
arch Job  and  the  apostle  John. 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL  551 

When  we  take  the  Inspired  Book  in  one  hand  and 
the  most  accurate  and  advanced  modern  philosophy  in 
the  other,  and  go  out  to  read  and  to  meditate  in  the 
fields  at  noonday  or  at  eventide,  we  find  that  the  two 
books  agree  with  each  other  and  with  all  that  we  see 
in  the  open  book  of  Nature  around  us.  When  the 
dry  facts  of  science  have  caught  fire  from  the  living 
words  of  revelation,  the  two  conspire  to  make  the 
whole  scene  around  us  vocal  with  praise.  The  Hoods 
and  the  forests  clap  their  hands ;  the  mountains  and 
the  hills  break  forth  before  us  into  singing ;  the  outgo- 
ings of  the  morning  and  the  evening  rejoice  together; 
the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God ;  the  thunder  is 
his  voice,  the  lightning  is  the  brightness  of  his  coming, 
the  whirlwind  and  the  storm  are  his  chariot,  arid  the 
clouds  are  the  dust  of  his  feet.  The  holy  men  of  old, 
who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
were  not  unphilosophical  in  referring  all  the  phenom- 
ena of  Nature  directly  to  God.  Without  knowing  it 
themselves,  they  were  in  strict  accord  with  all  that 
science  has  discovered,  or  ever  will  discover,  concerning 
the  works  of  Him  who  made  the  heavens  by  the  breath 
of  his  mouth  and  who  gave  life  to  all  living  creatures 
by  his  spirit. 

There  is  no  conflict  between  reason  and  revelation, 
science  and  religion,  for  the  same  infinite  God  speaks 
through  both,  and  all  his  communications  are  consistent 
with  himself.  True  science,  like  inspiration  itself, 
looks  through  and  beyond  all  intermediate  agencies  to 


552  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

the  first  and  final  cause.  It  is  not  afraid  to  describe 
the  phenomena  of  Nature  as  they  are  described  in  the 
Holy  Word,  when  both  have  the  same  object  in  view. 
It  loves  to  say,  in  the  simple  and  sublime  language  of 
inspiration,  God  maketh  the  earth  soft  with  showers 
of  rain ;  God  watereth  the  hills  from  his  chambers ; 
God  thundereth  marvelously  with  his  voice;  God 
cauoeth  the  grass  to  grow  for  the  cattle  and  herb  for 
the  service  of  man ;  God  feeds  the  fowls  of  heaven  and 
the  beasts  of  the  forest ;  God  clothes  the  flowers  of  the 
field  with  a  splendor  surpassing  the  robes  of  kings ; 
God  breathes  the  breath  of  life  into  all  living  creatures, 
and  it  is  when  he  taketh  away  their  breath  that  they 
die.  The  snow  and  the  hail,  the  summer  and  the 
winter,  the  morning  and  the  evening,  the  day  and  the 
night,  are  his,  and  they  all  fulfill  his  word. 

And  we  shall  have  the  most  satisfactory  as  well  as 
the  most  accurate  and  instructive  view  of  the  various 
forms  and  forces  of  Nature  around  us  when  we  see  in 
them  most  clearly  the  evidence  of  God's  promise,  the 
display  of  his  power  and  the  determinations  of  his  will. 
The  very  darkness  through  which  our  eye  cannot 
pierce,  and  the  deep  mysteries  which  reason  cannot 
solve,  speak  to  us  of  God  not  less  truly  than  the  most 
brilliant  discoveries  in  science  and  the  broad  noon  of 
divine  revelation.  So  long  as  he  is  the  infinite  and 
eternal  God  he  must  make  darkness  his  secret  place, 
and  he  must  hide  the  habitation  of  his  throne.  To  the 
most  exalted  of  his  creatures  his  judgments  must  be 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  553 

unsearchable  and  the  mystery  of  his  being  past  finding 
out. 

And  yet  God  is  ever  revealing  himself  to  us  with  a 
measure  of  fullness  perfectly  suited  to  our  faculties. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  the  sad  cry  of  the  doubting 
and  despondent  heart,  "  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  might 
find  him!"  God  is  nigh  to  all  who  call  upon  him.  He 
is  always  found  by  those  who  seek  him.  It  is  given — 
not  indeed  as  a  special  privilege  to  the  great  and  gifted, 
never  to  the  proud  and  faithless,  but  always  to  the  pure 
in  heart — it  is  given  to  see  God.  It  is  the  peculiar  joy 
of  the  blessed  in  the  Better  Land  that  they  see  his  face. 
And  the  life  of  heaven  has  begun  below  with  those 
who  see  God  in  his  works,  who  study  God  in  his  word, 
who  walk  with  God  in  love,  and  who  commune  with 
God  in  spirit. 

God  commands  us  to  acquaint  ourselves  with  him 
that  we  may  be  at  peace,  and  that  good  may  come  to 
us.  He  is  ever  so  intent  upon  making  himself  known 
to  us  that  he  reasons  and  persuades,  he  entreats  and 
implores,  he  wearies  himself  with  spreading  out  his 
hands  all  the  day  in  the  attitude  of  a  loving  and  com- 
passionate father,  inviting  and  alluring  a  reluctant 
child  to  his  arms.  In  all  the  works  of  his  hands,  in  all 
the  ordinances  of  his  eternal  providence,  on  every  page 
of  divine  revelation,  by  every  ministration  of  his  truth, 
by  every  influence  of  his  spirit  upon  the  hearts  of  men, 
he  is  declaring  his  creative  power,  his  unsearchable 
wisdom,  his  everlasting  love. 


554      .  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

The  voice  of  divine  instruction  is  so  clear,  the  indi- 
cations of  the  divine  presence  are  so  numerous  and  con- 
stant, the  pleadings  of  the  divine  love  are  so  earnest 
and  tender,  that  man  can  commit  no  greater  mistake 
than  to  make  little  of  God — he  can  be  blinded  with  no 
greater  folly  than  to  live  without  God  in  the  world. 
Think  of  it,  you  who  are  tempted  to  forget  God,  you 
who  are  in  danger  of  wandering  so  far  away  from  your 
Father  as  to  think  of  him  only  as  a  distrusted  and  un- 
friendly stranger — every  movement  of  your  mind,  every 
sensibility  of  your  soul,  every  faculty  of  your  being 
testifies  that  God  is  thinking  of  you  in  kindness  every 
moment.  The  very  dust  which  you  tread  beneath  your 
feet  is  more  truly  God's  work  than  the  lines  which 
flow  from  my  pen  are  the  tracings  of  my  hand.  The 
mightiest  reasoners  in  the  world  could  never  convince 
me  that  any  other  hand  than  my  own  had  written  the 
lines  which  I  have  once  seen  following  my  pen  across 
the  page.  Just  as  little  should  any  argument,  persua- 
sion or  temptation  have  power  to  convince  you,  or  even 
to  cause  you  the  momentary  feeling  or  impression,  that 
any  other  hand  than  God's  own  gave  you  life  and  all 
of  life's  blessings. 

If  I  should  lay  before  your  eyes  a  letter  from  your 
best  human  friend,  every  trace  and  turn  of  the  lines 
would  make  you  think  of  him.  You  have  only  to  open 
your  eyes  to  see  the  handwriting  of  God  upon  every 
object  within  the  range  of  your  vision.  The  shading 
of  the  flower,  the  song  of  the  bird,  the  form  of  the  tree, 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  555 

the  breath  of  the  air,  the  tint  of  the  sky,  the  green  of 
the  grass,  are  all  thoughts  of  God,  and  they  are  de- 
signed to  help  you  think  of  him.  If  you  were  gazing 
upon  Raphael's  picture  of  the  Transfiguration,  you 
would  see  thought  and  meaning  and  character  in  every 
shade  and  figure  of  the  whole  composition.  Dazzled 
and  delighted  with  the  celestial  glory  which  the  crea- 
tive imagination  of  the  great  artist  has  poured  upon  the 
perishable  canvas,  you  would  talk  of  him  and  think 
of  him  with  ceaseless  wonder  and  admiration.  Open 
your  eyes  on  any  landscape,  stand  and  look  wherever 
there  is  anything  to  see,  and  you  will  behold  diviner 
forms  than  Raphael  ever  drew.  You  will  see  the  per- 
fection of  beauty  which  the  great  artist  strove  all  his 
life  in  vain  to  equal,  even  in  imitation.  And  all  these 
shades  of  beauty  which  you  see  in  the  landscape,  these 
forms  of  life  which  people  the  living  world  around  you 
are  thoughts  of  God,  set  before  you  to  help  you  think 
of  him.  The  worm  that  crawls  in  the  dust,  the  living 
slime  that  floats  at  the  will  of  the  wave,  the  eagle  that 
cleaves  the  cloud  and  rejoices  in  the  storm,  the  arch- 
angel that  ministers  before  the  throne  in  heaven,  re- 
ceive life  and  being  from  the  breath  of  th6  Almighty, 
and  the  divine  workmanship  is  as  clear  and  inimitable 
in  one  as  in  another. 

The  simplest  line  or  figure  drawn  by  the  great  Artist 
is  enough  to  show  the  hand  of  the  Master.  God  never 
does  anything  unworthy  of  himself.  If  we  were  fully 
competent  to  understand  his  works,  we  might  turn  to 


556  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

a  leaf  or  a  bird  or  a  blade  of  grass,  and  it  would  speak 
to  us  of  God  with  ten  thousand  voices,  and  every  voice 
would  declare  him  to  be  all-wise,  all-good,  almighty. 
When  Galileo  was  imprisoned  on  the  charge  of  heresy 
for  having  asserted  the  motion  of  the  earth  on  its  axis, 
his  cruel  inquisitors  came  to  tease  and  torment  him 
with  questions  in  his  dungeon.  Affecting  great  horror 
at  the  atheism  of  the  man  who  had  opened  a  new  door 
into  the  infinite  heavens  of  the  divine  glory,  they  asked 
him  if  he  believed  in  the  existence  of  God.  He  lifted 
a  dry  straw  from  the  floor  of  his  cell  to  the  light,  and 
said,  "  That  alone  is  enough  to  demonstrate  the  exist- 
ence of  God."  When  Napoleon  was  on  his  way  to 
Egypt,  walking  upon  the  deck  of  his  ship  beneath  the 
glorious  starlight,  he  overheard  a  company  of  philoso- 
phers debating  the  question  whether  the  universe  had 
any  Creator.  Stopping  suddenly  and  breaking  in 
upon  their  debate,  he  threw  his  hand  upward  with 
a  significant  gesture  toward  the  starry  vault  and  said : 
"  Gentlemen,  I  hear  some  of  you  say  there  is  no  God. 
Can  you  tell  me  who  made  all  that?"  And  indeed  it 
makes  little  difference  whether  we  consider  the  with- 
ered blade  of  grass  or  the  heavens  emblazoned  with 
millions  of  worlds — we  shall  see  the  work  of  our  Father 
and  we  shall  find  it  all  very  good. 

If  we  had  the  devout  spirit  of  prophets  and  psalm- 
ists of  ancient  times,  it  would  seem  to  us  as  if  the  whole 
surrounding  creation  were  peopled  with  voices,  holy 
voices,  ever  drawing  our  thoughts  upward  to  God,  ever 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  567 

bidding  us  behold  him  in  every  creature  into  which  he 
has  breathed  the  breath  of  life — in  every  hue,  shape, 
quality  and  dimension  which  he  has  given  to  the  world 
around  us.  When  we  go  out  into  the  open  country 
and  cast  our  eyes  upon  the  green  landscape,  the  valley, 
the  river,  the  plain,  the  harvest,  upward  to  the  eternal 
hills,  and  then  far  above  to  the  wide-arching  heavens 
illumined  by  the  noonday  splendor  of  that  one  great 
orb  in  whose  light  the  mingled  radiance  of  myriads  of 
more  distant  suns  is  dazzled  and  lost,  then  with  humil- 
ity, yet  with  rapture,  may  we  say,  Our  Father  made 
them  all.  Holy  is  his  name.  The  whole  earth  is  full 
of  his  glory.  The  wide  world  which  we  inhabit  is  a 
living  temple  for  his  worship,  sustained  by  the  pillars 
of  the  everlasting  mountains,  frescoed  with  the  shadows 
of  clouds,  filled  with  the  incense  of  opening  flowers  and 
falling  dews,  hung  around  with  the  gorgeous  tapestry 
of  sunset  skies  and  starry  nights,  echoing  with  per- 
petual anthems  that  swell  in  every  note,  from  the  mur- 
mur of  the  gentle  breeze  in  the  mountain  pine  to  the 
earth-shaking  thunder  of  the  skies  and  the  roar  of  the 
deep  in  storms. 

Kind  reader,  it  is  not  to  put  man's  philosophy  in 
the  place  of  Christian  faith  that  I  have  asked  you  to 
consider  the  heavens  and  listen  to  the  voices  of  the 
teaching  earth.  It  is  rather  to  show  you  that  our  holy 
religion,  the  blessed  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  so  great 
and  pure  and  divine  that  it  throws  light  upon  every 
branch  of  human  knowledge,  it  gives  dignity  and  con- 


558  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

secration  to  every  human  pursuit,  it  harmonizes  with 
all  the  laws  and  forces  of  being  and  life,  it  draws  con- 
firmations of  its  truth  from  everything  that  is  and 
everything  that  hath  been  or  shall  be.  I  have  not  for- 
gotten that  God's  most  complete  and  wonderful  revela- 
tion of  himself  is  in  Christ.  Having  ranged  at  will 
through  the  vast  galleries  of  earth,  gazing  with  ineffa- 
ble delight  upon  the  pictured  mountains,  the  purple 
clouds  and  the  sapphire  seas — having  taken  the  mighty 
telescope  and  swept  the  infinite  fields  of  space  amid  the 
blaze  of  millions  of  worlds — I  behold  a  greater  wonder  : 
I  am  entranced  with  a  more  surpassing  glory  when  I 
see  the  face  of  Him  who  was  once  nailed  to  the  shame- 
ful cross,  and  who  now  wears  the  heavenly  crown.  In 
the  height  and  depth  of  the  love  of  that  almighty 
Saviour  I  find  something  more  difficult  to  estimate 
than  the  distance  of  the  stars.  In  the  mercies  which 
he  has  shown  to  the  lost  race  of  man  I  find  a  number 
more  difficult  to  count  than  the  sands  of  the  sea.  In 
the  humiliation  which  he  bore  for  our  sake  I  discover 
a  greater  mystery  than  the  revolution  of  suns  and  sys- 
tems of  worlds. 

To  know  that  Saviour  as  the  Son  of  God  and  the 
Son  of  Man  is  the  most  excellent  knowledge.  To  sit 
at  his  feet  like  a  little  child  and  learn  of  him  is  the 
highest  attainment  of  human  wisdom.  His  wondrous 
work  in  redeeming  the  lost  race  of  man  shall  be  "  the 
science  and  the  song  of  all  eternity."  All  power  is 
his,  in  heaven  and  in  earth.  He  holds  the  stars  in  his 


GOD  ALL  IN  ALL.  559 

right  hand.  He  has  the  kingdom  and  the  crown  of 
the  universe  at  his  command.  We  have  only  to  walk 
with  him  in  lowliness  of  mind  and  learn  the  lessons  of 
love  and  trust  which  he  is  now  teaching,  and  by  and 
by  he  will  lift  up  the  everlasting  gates  that  open  into 
the  infinite  realm  of  life  and  glory,  and  he  will  say  to 
us,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  before  the  foundation  of  the 
world." 

In  that  great  and  blessed  Hereafter,  when  the  ever- 
lasting gates  of  the  future  have  been  lifted  up,  and  we 
have  entered  into  our  Father's  many-mansioned  house, 
there  will  be  time  enough  to  explore  its  riches  and  re- 
joice in  its  beauty.  We  here  see  only  in  part.  All 
the  splendors  of  this  world  which  we  now  inhabit  are 
only  faint  beams  of  the  glory  yet  to  be  revealed.  The 
light  that  now  reaches  us  comes  from  afar,  and  we  see 
it  darkly  through  clouds  and  tears.  But  if  we  stand 
ready  to  enter  when  the  gates  are  thrown  open  and  the 
voice  of  the  King  says,  Come,  we  shall  see  the  source 
of  the  glory  whose  faintest  beams  are  enough  to  make 
this  dark  world  bright.  Good  men  sometimes  long  to 
live  many  years  on  the  earth  to  see  the  advance  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ — to  rejoice  in  the  coming  of  the  day 
when  the  whole  earth  shall  be  full  of  light  and  love. 
They  would  willingly  bear  all  the  burdens  and  suffer- 
ings of  this  present  state  for  years  and  ages,  if  they 
could  only  see  the  completion  of  the  great  work  to 
which  they  have  given  their  toils  and  their  tears,  their 


<>60  GOD  ALL  IN  ALL. 

prayer  and  their  hope.  But  there  is  no  occasion  for  the 
fond  desire.  There  is  more  to  see  and  to  enjoy  by 
passing  in  when  the  door  of  our  Father's  house  is  thrown 
open  than  by  standing  without.  With  the  use  of  facul- 
ties that  never  fail,  and  the  flight  of  wings  that  never 
tire,  and  the  succession  of  ages  that  never  end,  at  our 
command,  and  the  great  house  of  God's  infinite  king- 
dom to  explore,  we  can  never  feel  that  we  were  called 
away  from  our  earthly  home  too  soon — we  cannot  fail 
to  see  and  rejoice  in  a  brighter  glory  than  will  ever 
shine  on  this  earth. 


THE   END. 


•  • 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


NnV2fil999 


EY 


12,000(11/95) 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


YC  31706 


438948 


Mz? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


